


The Kids Aren't Alright

by distantdreaming



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ+ issues, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Metaphors, Nico is a Dork, No Smut, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, So /so/ many metaphors, The Author Regrets Nothing, UPDATED TAGS FOLLOWING THIS ONE, Will is a Nerd, Will is an actual cinnamon bun, at least not super explicitly, author talks in the notes, shit gets messed up in their heads, slowest burn to ever burn I'm not even joking I hope you like sexual frustration, sort of, there's one small section in one chapter and it's written in the notes, this is what happens when children fight a war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 46,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3654336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantdreaming/pseuds/distantdreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico's fading away from the fingertips, the shadows swallowing him whole. Will's doing his best to slow this, and such prolonged contact means Nico has to be civil...and Will's friendly, and warm, and he does things to Nico's stomach. </p><p>Meanwhile, the aftereffects of yet another war waged with kids as soldiers sweep over the camp, and Nico's not the only one trying to recover. After all, people died on both sides, and life as a demigod was never easy to begin with. Nico is, however, the only one struggling with not only guilt and waking up in the morning, but with the very dissolving of his hands and everything attached.<br/>___<br/>Or, the world is not fair, Fate is a cruel mistress, and the balance of luck is skewed. The universe faces Nico, and Nico stares back with an exasperated expression, because he's already dealt with enough shit for a lifetime, thank you, and he'd really appreciate it if the universe packed its things and left him the hell alone. Maybe the universe could leave Will Solace by his side, though, because things suck a little less when a warm smile and clear blue eyes are all Nico can see, and he's not done counting all those freckles.<br/>---<br/>Title belongs to Fall Out Boy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who will fix me now? Dive in when I'm down? Save me from myself, don't let me drown.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, if this is your first time. I'm gonna go ahead and preface this fic by saying it's a super slow burn, it's angsty as fuck, there's cursing, there's tears, there's panicking and anxiety and drama and all that fun shit. If you need to avoid certain things, please feel free to comment or message me and ask if A or B is present in the fic and I will gladly tell you. I want you guys to be safe. That being said, thank you for taking the time to go on this rambling journey with us, and watch these two dorks stumble around each other. I hope you enjoy it, guys. :)
> 
> \--(before edits above and below, this was the opening and only note)--
> 
> This is what happens when you put children to war and expect them to come out of the other side okay. They don't. Dear god, they do not come out okay. This will get angstier later, but it starts off right after the end of the book, so. Let's see where this goes.
> 
> Beta'd by MissusPeculiar, who is amazing.
> 
> Chapter title from Bring Me The Horizon, characters from Rick Riordan.

The days after the battle are weird.

Nico does the funeral rites for Roman and Greek campers alike, and each one is saddening. The kids are young, even if they're technically older than Nico's biological age (age is really, really weird for him, okay, he doesn't even want to think about the chronological perspective). Their faces are unlined and innocent, and Nico can't really stand to look at any of them for too long. 

He does what he has to, though, because it his both his duty and his honor to send off the souls to Elysium. 

Distantly, he wonders about Octavian's fate. It makes him feel sick. He pushes the thoughts out of his head. 

He feels odd, after, when Will Solace has commandeered his time and placed him in the infirmary. He's tense and coiled, neither synonym really explaining the anxiously alert state he can't seem to get rid of. He gets more sleep than he can remember getting in a while (well, no - it's about twelve solid hours, not his usual three-day knock outs, but it feels like twelve hours this time), he eats more than he can remember doing (still no pomegranates, he'd rather eat ashes).

This is funny, considering everything tastes the same. Even godly food - he collapsed, he'd been given emergency ambrosia when a nearby camper had panicked - tastes...blank, and bland. He still can't shadow-travel, or raise even a skeleton cat (what? They're the only things that don't run or argue back when he wants company) without the tips of his fingers disappearing.

He knows, he tried. 

Will had almost killed him when he found him, curled in the forest floor shivering and freaking out because there was no one around to see it and _he could see through his hands this was not okay._

This is also, coincidentally, the first and last time he escaped the infirmary during Will's mandated stay. 

Will had tried to carry him back, and Nico had thrown as much of a fit as possible when whacking Will's arm results in Nico's hand going right through and a cold fear settling in the middle of Nico's chest. They instead sat in the tiny clearing and together tried to keep Nico from passing out from the first of what promises to be many anxiety attacks. 

That was also when Will snapped at him and flatly told him to accept that Will would be taking care of him until he learned how to do it himself. 

This leads to his current situation - sitting on the bed in the farthest corner of the infirmary and twisting the ring on his finger, staring at the floor and trying to ignore how terrified he was getting of the irregular consistency of his body's molecules. He's eaten, not tasting anything, sipped at that unicorn stuff Coach Hedge says helped him before, and sat in the sunlight streaming through the window - even now, it warms his back - and he _still_ can see through his fingertips. 

It's absolutely terrifying. 

He's begged and begged and convinced Will to keep the state between himself, Chiron, Coach Hedge, and Nico, only because it was unavoidable to keep it from Chiron and Coach Hedge. He didn't handle the attention well, and he hated the worried looks he was already getting - he didn't want to add anyone else's stares. 

(This, of course, was one of the very confusing moments in the short time he's spent with Will. Will had let him babble an anxious rant - complete with threats of bodily harm via skeletons and undead warriors - before grinning lopsidedly and simply stating _patient confidentiality, Nico._

Nico's cheeks had been red for the next fifteen minutes.)

As a result, he hasn't much left the curtained-off corner except to run to the bathrooms for showers, and, well, bathroom usage. 

He's finally in his usual clothing, though, and has since burned the horribly loud shirt he'd worn at the battle. The skull on his current black tee is leering creepily at nothing, and it's one of Nico's favorites as he usually can keep even more people away when wearing it. 

Will had laughed when he saw it. 

Nico is torn between not thinking about Will Solace and _only_ thinking about Will Solace, and it's very, very weird. 

Right now, though, he has firmly entrenched himself in the former. Well, as firmly as he can, at any rate. 

Stupid little thoughts still keeping sneaking in. Like Will's comment on trying harder if the shirt was meant to scare him away. 

Whatever, Nico has more important things to worry about. 

Like, say, the fact that the transparency has traveled to the first knuckle from his fingernails and he's trying to remember how to breathe correctly. 

He ends up pressing his palm down hard on the redone stitches of the werewolf scratches, letting the pain clear the panic for a few moments until the oxygen intake slows and evens out enough that he isn't getting dizzy anymore. 

He can hear the Apollo healers moving around and tending to patients on the other side of the curtain, the most distinctive of which being Will arguing with Clarisse on actually telling someone when she had a dislocated somethingorother instead of just carrying on in pain because _the other campers can't handle pain_ or some other bullshit answer.

Will had literally started talking over her by repeating that it was a bullshit answer, and Nico's cheeks were faintly pink. 

Despite all the years in the current time, he _did_ grow up in the thirties. Ish. Kind of. Cursing was unheard of, really, and though Nico had finally begun adapting to it when he was thirteen or so, hearing the totally casual curses Clarisse and the Ares cabin throw around is still a bit overkill for him. Hearing _Will_ use them just as casually is a little... _odd._

And, okay, Nico's no saint - he's certainly begun using a few curses himself here and there, especially since the taboo on them seems to have worn off completely, but...it's like it's just a part of everyone's vocabulary nowadays (oh, Styx, he hates when he finds himself using terms that should come out of the mouths of old men).

The argument ends in a grunt of pain from Clarisse and the horrible sound of a bone snapping back into it's rightful place, followed by Will's calm instructions for care. 

Nico winces sympathetically at the unpleasant sound, but he doesn't stop twisting the skull ring. He wonders if, given a long enough duration or strength, his...whatever this is will have the ring will simply fall off, fall through his finger. The thought is absolutely petrifying. 

Nico's running out of synonyms for fear. 

Thankfully, Clarisse seems to be the last person on Will's rounds, as he slips through the curtains and gives Nico a tired, lopsided grin. "Hey, Sunshine. Still Mostly Ghostly, or...?"

Nico rolls his eyes at the nickname, holding his hand up and wiggling the see-through tips at Will. It earns a look of concern, and then the hand he'd waved is wrapped in the warmth of both of Will's as he inspects the condition. 

_Condition._

It sounds like a horrible disease. 

Wait, Nico's _literally_ turning into shadows - it _is_ some kind of horrible, magical disease thing. Shit. 

Nico tries to focus on anything but the panic, settling for how stupidly warm Will's skin is. "So, Doc, what's the diagnosis?" he asks, just like he does every time Will checks on him. It earns the same slightly exasperated grin as always. 

"Nico, you're literally dissolving. I don't know what else to tell you. We got it to slow, yeah, but...it's coming back. You bringing up that cat and trying to shadow travel _again_ \- you're lucky you're fading, or I'd kill you for that - brought this back full-force." Will's voice is soft, so as not to overheard, and worried. 

Nico winces. He'd tried to travel to the bathroom yesterday when the tips of his fingers were solid and he'd had food and sleep and felt plenty better. It was a stupid risk, and he'd ended up freaking out and running back to Will with strangely translucent hands. 

"I...yeah," he manages belatedly. "At least I'm living up to my title of Ghost King, right?"

Will whacks his forehead lightly for the joke. "You have a horrible sense of humor, you know. Very morbid."

"Have you _met_ me?" Nico asks dryly. "I'm the son of Hades, Will. Not Iris."

Will grins. "You're right. I think it's actually less the morbidity and more the awful timing."

"Excuse you," Nico retorts, resisting poking Will because he doesn't think he can handle if his finger just goes _through_ his chest or something. "My timing is _flawless_ , I'm _hilarious._ I have no idea what you're talking about."

Will laughs. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sunshine."

There's the tiniest, most awkward pause, seeing as Will is now aware that not much really does. Nico sleeps when he's horribly exhausted, for a really long time, and very deeply...or not at all. Not since...not since the House of Hades. 

Then he manages a sassy reply. "Shouldn't you be Sunshine, Mr. Son-of-the-Sun-God?"

"That's a crap nickname, way too literal and lengthy. Honestly, Nico, it's like irony just goes right over your head." Will then pointedly looks directly forward, because even though Nico's seated on a bed Will still has a few inches on him. 

"Rude," Nico mumbles, but he's fighting a laugh. "So does that mean I have to call you Shadow?"

Will's nose wrinkles and he focuses back on Nico. "Gods, no, that's even worse. Only one of us gets to have the stunningly humorous ironic nickname, otherwise it's just cliché."

Nico does laugh, and it still feels off on his facial muscles, but it's not really a bad feeling. Just...new. 

Will looks slightly pleased with himself. 

Nico tries not to think about what that means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secondary edit and new end note; I've updated both the tags and the summary, and this fic is near it's completion, I'm expecting to max out at somewhere around 50k. It's seriously a slow as hell burn, and apparently I've made people cry, so be sure you're prepared to read through all this.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you to all those who take the time and read this, to leave kudos and to write me incredible comments, to support me through this fic and to make me smile when not much else could. All of you mean the world to me, and this is not the last you'll see of me, this is only one piece. Don't be afraid to send me prompts on tumblr (linked in multiple other notes in chapters ahead) and harass me for updates, and ask me any and all questions about this fic and the universe it's in.
> 
> Enough with my talking, thank you for reading this all if you took the time to do so, and enjoy.


	2. I'm so sick of watching all the minutes pass while I go nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Nico be cute, Percy is oblivious, no one is surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title credit to All Time Low, character credit to Rick Riordan.

Things, as they often do in Nico's life, really only get worse from there.

He's still agitated and twitchy from years spent having to fight for his life literally every single day, and now he's on a strict round the clock watch because his body is fading away.

The rest of the group Nico accidentally got attached to has found out now that he hasn't left the infirmary for a week and Will is bringing him his meals, and Nico has shut down every attempt at sympathetic or worried talk (much to Will's annoyance, because _Nico, you're doing that stupid thing where you shove people away from you again_ and thanks, but Nico cannot deal with being smothered, not after spending so many years utterly alone). Hazel was the only one he allowed to fuss over him, and it was brief. Reyna told him in no uncertain terms 'not to fucking die.' 

He feels honored when he gets that message, because it's exactly what he himself would have said if the situation were reversed. But, alas, he seems to be the only demigod in danger of simply fading out of existence. It's a problem.

He hasn't seen Percy since the Confession, and...he's okay with that.

He has no idea what that means, but he's okay.

Jason has been, as proven, an excellent friend. By that, of course, he means that Jason has had much the same reaction as Will to his attempting to use his powers and has insulted Nico's intelligence on multiple levels for making Jason worry. He doesn't mind. It's kind of endearing.

Plus, as he'd remarked back, the basis of his and Jason's friendship seems to be Jason's concern for him and his complete distaste for that, at least at the start. The comment had earned him a whack on his head, and Nico had laughed again.

Jason had looked startled, but pleased.

Nico has now had two separate people look happy that he laughed. It's almost making him self-conscious.

Annabeth has even stopped by.

It's not something he'd expected, not at all, but she was not only completely the same as before...she had shared some of Percy's worst habits. This had affirmed Nico's fading and gone hero-worship crush, and the weight was gone off of his shoulders completely. It had taken a long time of him clinging to the only "safe" crush he knew before he realized it simply...wasn't worth it.

Yeah, he still loves Percy.

But it's almost as you love a dear friend, someone you've been through battles (literally) with. You know them, they know you, it's a mutual please-don't-die-on-me-I'll-kill-you bond. It's not romantic love, or...not anymore.

Cupid had fucked him over, dragged him out into the open before he was ready and bared one of deepest secrets to someone he, at the time, didn't really trust (he didn't trust anyone, though, not with that). In the aftermath, he'd done a lot of thinking. He'd examined the crush, examined himself. Is it what he truly wanted?

No.

So he still does kind of harbor feelings for Percy (ha, haha, _harbor_ \- he'll leave now), but it's nothing compared to what it used to be, and it will fade completely given time.

Nico feels a lot lighter now.

Percy's panicking had led to the others finding out. He hadn't intentionally told Nico's secret (was it still, at that point?) to anyone, but his clueless confusion had led most to the right conclusion. Nico had thrown up that first night when he realized what he'd done, but now?

It's okay.

He's okay.

In this vein of self-acceptance and personal growth, it would seem that things are only moving forwards. And, really, they are. He's happier with his life, with who he is, with the friends he is slowly, finally making. He has found a place to _be_ , not to temporarily stay and leave again the moment he can't take it anymore.

This would all be amazing if he could keep his hands from fading away.

The unicorn draught has stopped being as potent, and ambrosia and nectar are temporary buffers that keep him visible at the cost of possibly frying him from the inside out. It's gotten to the point where he's wearing gloves whenever possible and trying to keep his hands from shaking.

Will has been praying nonstop to his father for the past two hours, but apparently Apollo is busy paying off whatever debt he owes to Zeus because it's, as Will had put it when he tried the day before, radio silence.

This has resulted in Nico being curled up on the cot and keeping his hands tucked behind his thighs and out of sight, chin on his knees as he stares at the white linen sheets and tries not to think about the very real possibility that he'll fade away completely.

He doesn't even know if that counts as dying or not.

His musings of death and who would be at his funeral and if Hazel would have to organize it being both the only other child of Hades/Pluto and his only relative are cut short with Will's return, his weight dropping beside Nico on the bed.  "So. My dad's coming down later," he announced.

Nico blinked in surprise, facing him. "What? Really? Does...does he know what's wrong with me?"

"Well," Will shifted. "Even if he can't figure it out, he can probably fix it."

"Probably?" Nico asked sharply. "That's not very comforting!"

Will frowned at him. "Okay, chill. Like, seriously. You need to relax. Doctor's orders."

Nico rolled his eyes at the catchphrase. "I'm sorry, I'm literally losing solidity of my body, but surely it's just a freak mutation of the common cold," he drawled, sarcasm thick to hide the worry.

Will, as usual, sees right through his every act and wraps an arm around his shoulders. The warm weight is undeniably _present_ , fixing him in place and assuring that he hasn't disappeared completely. Not yet.

"Look, I can't promise you anything, okay? But I can assure you that we will _try_. It'll be our very best to fix whatever it is that's happening to you, and usually when the gods start getting involved, shit gets done. Yeah?" Will's tone is calm and warm, like him.

Nico nods slowly, sighing. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Maybe yeah can be our always," Will teases.

Nico stares at him blankly.

Will's eyes widen after a moment. "Wait, seriously? You don't know what that's from?"

Nico kind of shrugs a bit under the weight of Will’s arm. “No…?”

Will blinks, swallows, and maybe even faintly blushes. “Right, you, ah...you haven’t really been seeing movies, have you?”

Nico’s brows had been drawing together slowly, and he was both confused and kind of interested. “Of course I have, _draconae_ have televisions in their stomachs,” he says, automatic.  
  
Will visibly bit back another laugh. “Like Teletubbies?”

“What the-” Nico frowns. “Are you using pop culture against me again?"

“Maybe.” Will laughed, rubbing Nico’s arm with the hand around him. “I can’t help it, it’s so easy and it’s so funny.”  
  
“How dare you!” Nico jabs him in the side in retaliation.

Will jumps, laughs again, and tackles him to the bed in a tickle war.

Nico is too busy battling Will’s hands and trying not to laugh too loudly so he can concentrate on _winning_ to realize that someone else had slipped past the curtain to see him.

So when someone randomly clears their throat rather loudly, Nico starts so bad he falls off the bed completely, landing with a thump and dragging Will, who he was still tangled with, right off the edge and on top of him.

The next few moments are muffled groans until Will’s head lifts up, expression concerned. “Am I squishing you?”

 _“Yes,_  William, get _off!”_ Nico shoves him to the side, sitting up and assessing the bruises he’ll have later.

Will lands with what is undoubtedly a squeak that he’ll undoubtedly deny making to the point of death that Nico will undoubtedly bring him to in terms of teasing. He sits up himself, though, taking notice of the third occupant of the not-really-a-room-and-more-a-square-curtained-off-section-of-a-much-larger-room, which is totally the best description for the space.

This makes Nico follow his line of sight to--

Percy Jackson, standing awkwardly off to one side with a sheepish expression.

“You have _no_ tact,” Nico states flatly, rubbing his elbow.

Will has to duck his head when he laughs out of surprise, and Percy looks properly shamed.

“I - yeah, sorry, um. I...wanted to see how you were doing?” It comes out as a question, the last syllable a little higher than the others, and Percy stands a bit straighter. “You know, like, if you were still here or not.”

His expression straight after the words leave his mouth is the visual reaction of ‘shit.’

“That came out wrong, sorry, I just--”

“I’m fine,” Nico interrupts, rolling his eyes and letting Will help him up. “I’m still here, mostly. See?” He wiggles his fingers in Percy’s direction, then pauses, bringing his hands up to stare at them critically.

Because they are solid.

Will reaches over his shoulder and pokes his index finger with his own, humming curiously by Nico’s ear.

Absently, Nico uses one of his hands to bat at his face, ignoring the chuckle that gets, squinting at his still spread hand. “I’m actually...even more here.”

“What do you mean?” Percy asks, confused. “Is that good?”

“Yep,” Will declares, taking Nico’s hand and pulling it close to his own face, squeezing Nico’s fingers.

Nico doesn’t pull it away, partly because he’s still shocked himself and partly because Will looks silly playing with Nico’s hand a few inches from his eyes with his Doctor face on.

Will’s Doctor face is one of concentration, all the traces of humor and warm smiles gone and instead he looks a little concerned and a lot like he’s taking apart a seriously difficult riddle to solve. All he’d need to be a child of Athena would be lighter eyes, seeing as his ridiculous Prince Charming curls are bright blond already. 

Nico looks away when Percy nears a bit, pulled from his train of thought to realize Percy had said something. Belatedly, he has to ask for a repeat. 

“I asked if that was good,” Percy clarifies. “Like, are you getting better?” 

Nico shrugs. “Maybe. Ask Will.” 

“It’s an improvement, but he might do something absurd like _try to shadow travel again before he’s ready_ or _summon a cat_ or whatever and set himself back again,” Will says, letting go of his hand, expression a mix of serious and teasing. 

“Yeah, got it, no shadow stuff,” Nico says dismissively. “Am I not gonna die of intangibility now?” 

“I dunno,” Will admits. “It’s not like I can compare your case to anything, Nico.”

Percy grins a bit. “It sounds good, though! Which is awesome!”

Nico barely glances to him. “I guess,” he notes absently, looking back at his hands. What had changed in the past hour that made his hands go from spectral to substantial?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr's [here](http://distantdreamingg.tumblr.com/) so hmu if I forget to post and feel free to harass me about Will and Nico not making out yet


	3. Hey, you're okay. Same shit, but it's a different day.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gods what there's a reason behind Nico's disappearing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of these chapter titles are song lyrics and I will high five you so hard if you know the songs without having to look them up, and nod in your direction if you don't do direct contact with strangers.
> 
> Artist Vs Poet is (are?) the owner(s?? :/) of my chapter title lyrics, Rick owns the names'n'faces, and I own my ridiculous dad joke plot. Hella.
> 
> (Oh my gods MissusPeculiar is amazing)

Apollo is striding through the infirmary the very next morning, almost glowing too bright to look at and in the shape of his usual Abercrombie model form, heading to the now-open area where Nico sat on his cot.

His fingers were back to weirdly transparent, and this had been odd as all of Nico’s nervous habits involve his hands. He can’t bite at his nails, and he has to concentrate to twist his ring, and that’s downright alarming.

Will greets his dad with a hug, and that proves the casual and close relationship Will has with Apollo and pretty much everyone hates him a little bit for but can’t really blame him, either - Will had been through a lot, and now he was head counselor for his cabin, head healer, and a stubborn survivor of not just one, but _two_ catastrophic wars.

Nico is also head of everything and a survivor and younger than Will to boot, but Hades isn’t affectionate and Nico’s not going to think about father-son relationships anymore.

Nico’s hands are once again in a very warm and firmly gentle (Nico doesn’t know how else to explain it, really) grip, and Apollo scrutinizes his hands and tuts randomly for a good minute.

Nico and Will trade a mildly amused look, more so on Nico’s part because Will isn’t aware that he sometimes does the same thing.

“Well,” Apollo says after a few more moments. “You need to brighten up.”

There’s an awkward pause.

“Excuse me?” Nico asks slowly.

“You’re only fading because you’re convincing yourself you’re going to. There’s nothing really wrong with you,” Apollo says cheerfully. “It’s all in your head!”

Nico’s jaw is dropped, but Will’s nodding like the whole puzzle was upside down and now that it’s flipped everything makes sense. “Of course, psychosomatic…”

“Psycho-what?” Nico asks a bit loudly, eyes wide.

“It means your mental state is affecting your physical state,” Will simplified. “So it’s your panic and anxiety that’s leading to you fading, which makes sense, because you’re always fine when you’re laughing about something and not thinking about it. I can’t believe I missed that.”

“Hey, sometimes you need an objective eye, kid.” Apollo ruffles Will’s hair. “I’d cut out the Ambrosia and Nectar before he bursts into flames, though. It’s not doing much for his head, not enough to really matter. It’s gonna be a long and hard process, but eventually this shouldn’t happen at all anymore.”

Nico sits down on the edge of the cot, digesting, swallowing. His fingers are _going through_ things because he’s _thinking_ about it? He’s _thinking_ about disappearing?

Everything dims, and Nico’s head spins. He loses track of Apollo’s voice, then Will’s, and then his own breathing, the static of too many thoughts speeding together in his mind drowning out all but the sheer disbelief and growing fury at himself.

He doesn’t realize what’s happening until Will’s got both hands pressed to either side of Nico’s face, and his voice is loudly overriding the static with calls of Nico’s name.

Nico blinks at him in confusion, wondering why Will looks distressed, and then gasps in a breath because wow he was lightheaded, when did that happen, why isn’t the gasp helping…?

Will presses his forehead against Nico’s, staring at him, still speaking, but Nico’s not really making out what he’s saying.

Then Will’s thumb presses over Nico’s mouth, pinning it closed and halting his gasps, and everything kind of crashes into a halt as the oxygen levels begin to even out. Nico blinks again, breathing out through his nose, blinking a few more times as clarity begins to return.

“--kay, it’s okay, just take deep breaths, in and out. Good, you’re doing really well, keep going,” Will’s saying, even and slow.

Nico finally just closes his eyes and listens, letting the tenor wash over him until he’s breathing evenly and he feels fine, if a bit tired.

Will pulled back a moment later, his hands sliding to Nico’s shoulders. “Okay?” he asks, concerned.

Nico nods, opening his eyes and blinking yet again, sighing. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good,” Will says finally, like a sigh in itself, a small grin quirking at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve gotta stop working yourself up like that, it’s not good for you. What set it off?”

Nico braced his hands on either side of his legs, shrugging a little. “That it’s all in my head, I guess?” He frowned again. “That’s so stupid. How am I doing this to myself?”

Apollo shuffles a little. “Alright, kids. You look like you can handle each other, so I’ll be off.”

Will looks away, then, blue eyes leaving Nico to refocus on his dad, almost like he’d forgotten Apollo was even there. “Yeah, of course,” he agreed, nodding. “Thanks for coming, dad.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Well, not literally, but when I can.” Apollo gives them both a bright, sun-god-patented grin. “It is time to go/So I will be on my way/Hope you feel better!”

Both Will and Nico stare at him blankly, entirely positive Apollo hadn't even _tried._

Apollo pouts. “There’s such a bad crowd here, you kids are no fun. Well, Zeus’ punishment is calling, so I really do have to go.” He waved a little, finally heading back out, humming something indistinctly.

Will clears his throat, hands dropping from Nico’s shoulders, and Nico really doesn’t miss the warmth, like, at all.

“So. We need to work on your thought processes, then,” Will decides, crossing his arms now.

Nico nods, back to frowning. "I still don't know how I'm doing this to myself," he says stubbornly.

Will gives him a tired quirk of a grin, and it's an expression Nico's becoming intimately familiar with considering how often Nico puts it on his face. A part of him feels a tinge of guilt, because it's not a particularly _nice_ expression, per say, but Will still looks gorgeou--

Wait.

What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha.
> 
> Haha.
> 
> I'm dead serious that's it that's the cure.
> 
> HAHA I'M SO BAD AT POETRY CAN YOU TELL but Apollo is too so I mean maybe I did him justice idk


	4. It seems my secrets have secrets too, and I'm running out of glue to keep them from falling apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're such fucking nerds I swear to god

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Search The City

Nico is having a crisis.

Again.

Will is also having a crisis, and it's directly related to Nico's crisis, and it's Nico's fault.

Nico can't make himself stop the anxiety he's experiencing because _Gods_ he's become _fond_ of Solace, what the _Styx._

So Nico's hands keep going incorporeal and Will keeps going dotty trying to keep him from doing that, and it's all one helluva mess. They've fought twice, now, Will trying to get him to open up about why he's so anxious and Nico lashing out and trying to pull away.

That's where they are now, but Nico had instinctively tried to shadow travel, and Will's arms wrapped around his waist before he could get into the shadow, and Nico squirms, fighting against it as Will lifts him off the floor completely, swinging him around and setting him down in the sunlight, but not letting him go.

Nico thrashes slightly, but Will's grip isn't budging at all, no matter how hard he pulls. Instead, Will's chin slots over his shoulder, pinning Nico against himself and just waiting.

Nico finally gives up, slumping in his grip, scowling. "I'm not telling you."

"Then will you tell anyone _else?"_ Will asks, exasperated, and his breath touches Nico's neck and Nico's fingers are only about half visible.

"No! It's nothing!" Nico starts squirming again, but Will wasn't blind enough to loosen the hold, so it's futile.

"It is _not_ , di Angelo! You're worse now than you've ever been, which means something's _eating_ at you. You need _help._ Even if you won't take it from me, please talk to _somebody,_ I'm begging you. _Please."_ Will's tone is too much, too concerned, too genuinely upset.

Nico turns his head away, swallowing. His every interaction with Will is making it worse, because Will's a lot handsier than Percy ever was, and that's partly because Will is one hundred percent focused on him when they're together and it's dizzying. Will is so genuine in everything he does, so real, and so very, very close. His touch is warm, the heat radiating from his arms and through the thin fabric of Nico's shirt, into his stomach and along his back.

It's too much.

"Let me go," Nico breathes softly, defeated.

It must be his tone, or his expression, if Will can either sense or see it, because he does let Nico go. Completely.

Nico hugs himself, now, staring at the floor.

"It's me, isn't it?" Will asks quietly, with a dawning realization.

Nico winces. "Um. Not...directly?" he tries, wincing again.

Will gently turns him, bringing Nico to face him, expression concerned. "What did I do?"

"Nothing!" Nico insists, looking everywhere but directly at him. "You didn't do anything, it's all me, and my senseless head, and my...yeah, it, it's just, it..." Nico trailed off, scrubbing his hands over his face, a rather broken noise of frustration escaping when his fingers didn't quite work properly.

Will's hands are so gentle, feather-light, hesitant as he touches Nico.

Nico lets Will guide his hands away from his face, Will's fingers slowly closing over his, thumbs soothingly rubbing circles on the backs of his hands. Neither of them say anything, and it's not tense, it's just silence.

Will finally just gathers him into a hug, and Nico lets him, letting his head rest on Will's shoulder as he breathes, calm. Nico is overwhelmed with how comfortable this is, or he would be if he could feel any anxiety with Will's arms around him, hands running up and down his back, slow and repetitive.

They stay like that for a bit, Nico getting used to the fact that he isn't weirded out by Will's touches, because by Nico's track record he damn well should be. But for some reason, Will being this close doesn't feel wrong, doesn't set off alarms in his head.

"I'm sorry," Will breathes, cheek against Nico's, and Nico snorts in response. Will blinks, pulling back enough to face him, but not letting him go again.

"Sorry?" Nico echoes, grinning faintly. "Why? What did you do that warranted an apology? This is all in my head, remember?"

Will rolled his eyes, grinning himself, a lot wider than Nico's, his ridiculous dimples and his Princely curls and his freckles and--

Nico drops his forehead against Will's shoulder with a helpless laugh, part groan. "Oh my gods," he mumbles, sighing.

"You okay?" Will asked, hands back to rubbing up and down his back.

Soothed, Nico stays relaxed, wriggling his arms up to wrap them around Will's shoulders, returning the hug for the first time. "M'alright. Digesting."

"Digesting?" Will asks, prompting, not stopping his ministrations.

"Mhm." Nico's glad Will doesn't comment on his hug, because Nico would've had to pull back or something. "Digesting," he repeats, eyes closing. Will has large hands in that he has long fingers, and they feel nice massaging out the knots in Nico's shoulders.

"Okay." Will agrees easily, focusing on Nico's shoulders and massaging deeply.

Nico lets out a happy sigh, now leaning on Will with most of his weight, but Will doesn't seem to mind at all.

At the end of the massage, Nico is drowsy, yawning against Will's shoulder. "You made me sleepy," he notes.

"I did?" Will is surprised, and it sounds in his voice. "Want to sleep, then?"

"Not really," Nico admits. "M'only gonna wake up annoyed. Or after a dream. Clovis doesn't help me much."

"You've talked to Clovis?" Will still sounds surprised, like everything Nico is saying is news he's never thought of.

"Yeah?" Nico shrugs a little. "When I'm asleep. Sometimes I talk to him. He's nice, if a little slow in speaking 'cause he's always half-awake at best."

Will nodded, understanding. "Okay. I didn't know you could do that. Is that a...Hades thing?"

"Maybe. I dunno." Nico admitted, not really caring.

"Interesting." Will mumbled.

Nico hummed absently, pretty much dozing on Will's shoulder at that point.

Will says something else, but he misses it, falling asleep completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you wanted them to kiss, and I bet you expected it.
> 
> TOO EASY.


	5. Bang bang go the coffin nails, like a breath exhaled, then gone forever.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay kids, it's time for that angst tag to kick in. This is why teenagers shouldn't fight wars. Nico has sort of an existential crisis kind of thing, I dunno if anyone can't handle that or whatever, he's super gloomy here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title credit - Rise Against. (Fun fact; the song is named Make It Stop...go listen, but only if you're okay with crying...this especially applies if you watch the video, which is a suicide (ideation, technically?) tw. Stay safe, darlings.)

He wakes up back in the (insert curse of your choice, Nico uses plenty in his head and none of them are creative enough) cot in the infirmary, and he’s kind of pissed and kind of relieved because, hey, that’s a solid ten hours or so judging by the sun’s position through the window, but...it’s back to feeling like only two or three. He aches, he feels sick and he knows he’s not.

It’s the guilt. He hasn’t missed it.

It’s dragging on him, pulling at his tired muscles and latching to the very marrow in his bones. He’d gotten three or so very numb days of sleep and eating after the battle before the emotions had kicked in, and sleep and appetite flew out the window and took his sanity for a road trip and lost the _fucking_ map, apparently.

Gods, he’s pissed. This isn’t something he asked for. He’s _fifteen,_ or _sixteen,_ or _something_ and he’s just a _kid_ and he doesn’t even know his own _age_ why is he fighting someone else’s _war?_

But that’s how it always is, isn’t it? Pawns in the giant game of Risk that the deities and whatever play.

He’s heard tales of campers, of kids of the gods flipping their shits (he’d excuse his language but he has nothing left in him to care) and joining the Titans because even though it’d be being ruled by another supremely powerful whatever, at least the gods get to be embarassed first.

Nico kind of understands where they’re coming from. It isn’t _fair._ Why do so many of them die so young? It _hurts._ His chest burns, aches, there’s a crater in him from hearing the buzzing in his ears in that damned battle. Knowing the buzzing is the loss of life of kids younger than him or barely older, kids who should have entire _lives_ laid out in front of them.

And who the fuck is he to survive? What had he done to make it through while everyone else, all these innocent _children_ lose their lives?

He’s curled on the bed, his ring on the bedside table because it’d fallen through his fingers because all he can think about are his mistakes and fears and guilt and anger and--

The spiral is sharp, he knows that much. He isn’t sure what he dreamed, it wasn’t demigodly, or unsettlingly prophetic, just...pain. Probably faces again. He keeps seeing the faces of all the kids he had to read funeral rites for, and they’re haunting him.

He can’t go down to the Underworld or even Summon them because Will would peel his skin off for even trying and so he has no damn closure, which, yeah, okay, normal for him, but...it sucks. He knows some of those kids will say they died heroically, it’s fine, it was worth it.

But others?

Oh, no.

No, it hurts. They cry, they scream and cry and it’s not fair, it isn’t, not in the slightest, and the pain is raw and scrapes at Nico’s heart and behind his ribs until every breath burns. He has to calm them, send them off to Elysium because where the fuck else are kids really gonna go? A twelve-year-old hasn’t done anything stupid enough to warrant the Fields of Asphodel, the endless wandering.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been laying there with his hands curled to his chest and his knees drawn up, on his side and staring morosely out the window and not even really seeing anything. It’s been a while, the sun’s shifted, and the shadows are longer.

Will’s voice has occasionally sounded nearby but Nico doesn’t have the energy to listen hard enough to make out any words and maybe that should concern him because it’s _Will_ and he’s already established what that means, but.

Nope.

He’s tired but the last thing he wants is more sleep, so he just...stays.

It’s another long while of feeling empty and distantly sad before Will finally gets enough free time to slip back into his ‘room.’

“I really hate Capture the Flag sometimes, there’s three broken legs, a broken arm, two concussions, and a six-inch laceration. These kids are danger-prone and clumsy, and that really doesn’t mix. I mean, what the h-” There’s a very distinct pause. Will had cut himself off mid-syllable, and not even his faintly southern accent makes it sound anything but horribly abrupt, but Nico makes no move to even acknowledge him because he doesn’t really remember how to muster up enough energy to do so.

“Nico?” Will asks softly, footsteps nearing, and he crouches down right in Nico’s line of vision, his expression soft and open and concerned and it’s so beautiful it makes the ache even worse. Will’s eyes are clear and blue and so honest, his freckles show on his cheeks and nose even in the cast shadow of the sunlight behind him, illuminating his curls like a damn halo and isn’t that fitting?

“Oh, Nico.” Will breathes softly, like a prayer, or like a secret. Something far too intimate, and Will’s hand cups his cheek, the heat warm and so alive when Nico feels anything but. Will’s thumb burns a path over his cheekbone, stroking soothingly, but it doesn’t help enough.

“Alright. Okay, it’s okay. You’re okay. Come here.” Will straightens and sits on the edge of the cot, shifting Nico until he’s up in Will’s lap, Will’s arms wrapped around him. His head is on Will’s shoulder, and he has no willpower to move, and a lot of that is due to how much easier it is to breathe when Will’s arms settle around his waist and anchor him down.

Will doesn’t say anything else, but it’s like he knows it’s exactly what Nico needs, because Nico can feel himself start to relax and it’s like a fog is sliding out of his head. The heat of Will’s body is less fiery and more a comfortable warmth, the sound of his breathing is almost a lullaby, and his heartbeat keeps pace with Nico’s in a steady and sure fashion.

It’s...it’s not nice, that’s not the word, but it’s something close and that’s so comforting that Nico’s hands begin to actually have a semblance of a shape instead of vaguely flesh-colored blurs (yeah, he knows, _gross_ ) and that’s progress, so.

He’s not totally sure how long they spend sitting together, but Will shoos about four other Apollo kids away and stays even as the sun sets and the stars begin to appear. The air cools around them, and it feels nice on Nico’s exposed skin because the contrast of Will’s warmth (he’ll stop mentioning it when it stops being the most important thing about Will at the moment) is lovely.

It’s a while before Nico’s breathing is so deep and even he could be asleep but for the fact his head is pillowed on Will’s shoulder and he’s staring out at the stars. It’s then that Will shifts, but not much; he just takes one of Nico’s hands in his, fingers wrapping around the entirety of Nico’s palm and most of his fingers because he’s always been a tiny, skinny kid.

And, hey, his hands are back.

Cool.

“Can we go stare at the stars?” Nico asks, barely audible. He still feels awful on the inside, but it’s not anxious so his hands are in place and it’s not at the forefront so he isn’t thinking about death or dying (is that a normal Hades kid thing? Hazel seems okay. Hm.), and so he’s still tangible.

“Of course. Do you want to walk, or do you want me to carry you?” Will answers, voice soft and warm, and that’s also what Nico needs, when did Will become so good at this?

Wait, he always was, nevermind.

It’s part of why Nico likes him so damn much.

Nico debates the idea of using his limbs, and it takes a few moments after his decision to make himself speak again. “Carry.”

“Piggy-back, or like this?” Will asks gently.

Another few moments of consideration. He’s so comfortable like this, but piggyback would be easier on Will. He sighs.

Will doesn’t let him pick, though, standing after about a minute has passed, holding him bridal style and normally this would piss Nico off but right now it’s okay, he feels okay with his ear right near Will’s heart so he can hear every beat, every breath.

The walk is silent, Will’s steps slow and sure, and Nico’s never jostled. They’re out on the lawn a few feet from the infirmary and since he’s with Will and he looks like shit the harpies just glide right on by.

So Nico drops his head back on Will’s shoulder and stares up at the night sky, lets Will's arms wrap around his waist, lets his legs lay over Will’s and tangle loosely, sharing heat, his hands resting on Will’s arms. It’s safe, and Nico feels secure for the first time in a long time.

Will doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t crane his neck to see the night sky. Instead, he has his chin on Nico’s shoulder, which was around under his chin anyways and all he did was dip his head a little. It’s okay, Will’s breath is warm and it ghosts against Nico’s arm every now and then and he doesn’t talk, doesn’t try to fill the silence or make Nico speak.

He’s so grateful, he really is.

The constellations are so bright, the stars between are scattered like the freckles Nico sees all over Will, even on his arms. There’s even a few on his legs when he ditches full scrubs for shorts, which is basically always.

Nico eventually closes his eyes, and he’s not tired, but it’d be so nice to sleep in Will’s arms like this, to sleep with this much serenity.

So he does, after another while, and his hands unconsciously relax on Will’s arms. He doesn’t feel himself shifted ever so carefully, lifted ever so gently, and carried back to his cot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //laughter  
> I finished my semester and in between finals, finals recovery, and a shit mother's day weekend I kinda...forgot to upload. And procrastinated. And I changed my mind on a plot and pulled out a chunk of what I have written to go in another direction, so now I only have one more chapter prewritten instead of two. UNLESS. Would you guys like short, often-updated, drabble-ish chapters until I get a good scene flowing, or connected drabbles in a rather average chapter length? Please answer, you guys are determining what the next chapter is and how soon it'll be up.


	6. Sunshine, there ain't a thing that you can do that's gonna ruin my night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico needs a hobby, and coffee is amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate coffee. Title credit to Pierce the Veil & the lovely DemigodMaterial for suggesting it.  
> (This is not the drabble chapter I forgot this chapter existed when I asked you guys, it's actually next, oops.)  
> (The overwhelmingly adorable responses I got from the last chapter are why I updated, y'all are precious and I love you, thank you, thank you, thank you.)

The next morning isn’t nearly as depressing, and that is in large a part due to the fact he wakes up to the smell of authentic Italian cappuccino.

“Wan’a cup,” He mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, not really caring who he’s talking to. That smells _amazing_ and it smells like _home._

Not that he knows where home is, but Camp is starting to get there. He fits in, he can belong, and it’s...it’s getting there.

Warm fingers catch his hand to slide a cup into them, and he doesn’t even need to properly open his eyes as he takes a sip, knowing it was Will that gave him the cup. He all but moans his approval of the coffee before he speaks, lazily blinking himself awake. “Who’d you sell your soul to to get ahold of this kind of drug, Solace?”

Will chuckles and the sound is some kind of divine, Nico thinks. He’d listen to it forever.

“Pulled in a few favors, Sunshine. Figured you could use a boost.” Will says, sitting on the edge of Nico’s cot again.

“You’re a saint. An actual saint.” Nico says definitively, leaning into his side and sipping at the coffee, both hands around the cup.

Another chuckle, and Will’s arm is around his waist, so he’s doing something right.

“How’d you know I needed coffee to wake up?” He asked, yawning only half-heartedly before nursing (the humor is not lost on him, not even this early, he’s so good at bad internal puns; Will is totally Doc) the coffee.

“You don’t seem like a morning person, and you’re Italian, even though you look pale as hell since you avoid the sun like it’s gonna burn you alive.” Will answers easily, sounding amused, and Nico makes some sort of distracted elbow jab towards his ribs.

“Rude, my hair is totally black and curly enough, I don’t need a tan or whatever.” Nico defends, already feeling refreshed and alert.

“You look like you’re trying out for _Twilight_ as Edward’s shorter, skinnier replacement.” Will states flatly, and, _ow,_ Nico actually knows what trash that movie and book series was.

“Rude,” Nico repeats with emphasis. “First of all, I totally have better cheekbones, and second of all, ew. Isn’t _Twilight_ old now, or whatever?”

“I’ll agree with you there.” Will taps Nico’s cheek with a finger. “And yeah, but I figured if you’d get any reference, it’d be that.”

“Still. Gross.” Nico shudders, and Will’s laugh is even louder.

“Okay, okay, but seriously, Sunshine. You need some sunshine.” Will prods his side gently, and Nico squeaks some kind of complaint into his coffee.

“I really don’t. I’m going for translucent, haven’t you seen?” He wiggles the fingers of one hand.

Will covers that hand with his own and squeezes lightly. “I’m trying not to whack your arm for that, you should know.” He informs, tone light and Nico knows that’s bullshit, so he smiles.

Will smiles back almost instantly, and it’s those damned Apollo genes because his teeth are straight and white and his smile is lovely to see.

“Okay, so say I...say I convinced you to one hour of sunlight a day, Doctor’s orders.” Will tries.

“I’d say no.” Nico offers, smirking.

“But what if I did something really awesome and you had no choice to agree with me?” Will asks.

“Like what?” Nico challenges.

“That’s not important.” Will dismisses, a very clear sign saying that he has absolutely no idea what would work.

Nico can’t help but laugh a little. “It kind of is, though, for that to work?”

“That wasn’t my point, though!” Will all but whines.

Taking pity, Nico sips more coffee and refrained from more teasing. “So what _is_ your point, then?”

“What would you choose to do?”

Well.

The question takes him by surprise, because it’s not something he’s spent time thinking about. What does he even like to do? Does he even have any hobbies?

None come to mind.

Mythomagic was really the only thing he’s been into, and after...after the first war that kind of faded to nothing. He still has a few of the cards and a certain figurine, but.

He’s no longer ten/eleven/twelve/whatever anymore. It’s been a few years. He needs a new hobby.

Will has waited through all of these thoughts patiently, his free hand writing notes on various charts that he’d brought in with him.

“I don’t know.” Nico finally admits, the confession defeated. “I really don’t know.”

Will sets the charts aside, then, his now free arm curling around Nico’s waist with the other. “Okay. Wanna find out?”

“Is this your bribery?” Nico asks amusedly, leaning into the warmth.

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“A little.” Nico admitted, an actual smile tugging at his mouth. “But what if what I like to do is indoors?”

“We’ll open all the windows.” Will says, quick enough that Nico knows he’s been expecting that.

“And if there’s no wi--”

“There’s gonna be windows, whatever you’re doing is gonna involve sunlight.” Will says emphatically.

Nico sighed dramatically, fighting a laugh. “Alright, alright, Doc. You win.”

“But as you don’t know yet, I’m kinda hoping for outdoors.” Will admits. “And I think we should try activities out there first.”

“As long as it’s not Capture the Flag, sure. I’ve had enough of fighting for a while.” Nico sighs, draining the last of his coffee and regretting it because the coffee was _amazing._

Will looks a little too understanding when Nico glances at him, so he looks away, leaning from his hold to set the mug on the bedside table. "Is there even anything interesting here besides Capture the Flag and that forsaken climbing wall?"

"Well..." Will stares out the window, now, and Nico studies his profile for a moment, the straight lines of his jaw and the bright of his blue eyes, before looking away.

"There's always art, or music." Will finally offers.

Nico snorts. "Neither of us are musically inclined, and you know that."

Will's cheeks redden faintly. "That's why I'm Head Healer, not Head Musician."

Nico rolls his eyes, smile amused when it spreads crookedly over his face. "Dork."

"Nerd." Will fires back instantly. "Wanna try drawing or making something?"

"Are you gonna make me do it anyways?" Nico asks.

"Duh."


	7. Suffocating, no breathing, don't give a fuck if I come out of here bleeding.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stir-crazy, what a funny term.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title goes to Papa Roach and could be better but this is all I found whoops

Nico, as it turns out, is actually decent at drawing when he wants to be. Which, weird. He wasn't expecting that.

Will's chin is hooked on his shoulder, his weight warm against Nico's back, and his arm is bracketed on Nico's side, against the table.

It's kind of distracting in the best possible way.

Will apparently likes to watch him draw, because this has been their position for the better part of an hour, as Will is seated on the couch directly behind him. Nico really doesn't mind, because the contact is nice. It makes him feel real.

He's sketching the dead, obviously, because they're whom he has the most experience studying and interacting with. It's creepy, sure, but it's also accurate, so he's got that going for him at the least.

Will doesn't seem overly bothered that everyone he draws has bullet holes or missing skin or whatever it is the poor bastards died from. Then again, Will has already seen a lot of these injuries. Nico keeps forgetting that he has basically been a war medic multiple times, and that even without a war demigods are maimed and killed a lot.

Hell, most of the ghosts and corpses Nico has been drawing are demigods, simply because they're the ones that aren't freaked out by a skinny kid from Italy is able to talk to them like they were both alive. All the mortals simply think he's yet another form of underworldly tenant.

He adds a darker outline to the sword sticking out of his current sketch subject, a knight from olden times that had been a son of Ares and enjoyed long conversations about the various ways he’d killed people in war.

Will’s breath fans warm against the back of his ear, and Nico automatically flicks his head slightly, the strands of his messily-cut hair usually the culprit of ticklish feelings.

Will finally leans away, the warmth he’d been seeping into Nico’s back disappearing abruptly and unpleasantly. “You should eat.”

Nico makes a displeased noise. “I’m good, thanks.”

“I’m serious,” Will insists. “You should really eat something.”

“Great. Doesn’t mean I want anything.” Nico sets down his pencil, pulling his hood up to block out the sun streaming on them from the wide windows in the arts & crafts cabin.

Will tugs the hood right back down, though. "Whether or not you want it has no effect on the fact that you need it, di Angelo.”

“That’s funny, because I don't need it,” Nico snaps, flipping the hood back up pointedly.

“Stop being petulant. You know you need to eat.” Will pulls the hood down and lays his hands on Nico’s shoulders, barring it from being raised again.

“I don’t _want_ to eat, Will, I’m not hungry, and I’m not gonna force myself. It’s not happening.” He stood up, knocking Will’s hands away to yank up his hood, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I hate the sunlight, it’s too warm. I don’t want to be here. Let me go back to my cabin.”

“No,” Will says firmly, standing as well. “Why are you so worked up?”

“Maybe because I’m going stir crazy? I want to _do_ something. I want to go to Italy because I want decent coffee, I want to go to Egypt and see the pyramids, I want to eat lunch on top of one because I’m the only person that can get there without getting arrested!” Nico rants, hands moving as he speaks.

Will’s still so godsdamn calm, and he holds up his hands placatingly. “Okay, so we’ll go somewhere. We’ll do something. I’d prefer it to be without shadows until you’ve got full control over how corporeal you are, so maybe we can drive into the city and do something there. Okay?”

Nico’s hands drop, and he knows he’s glaring at Will and Will doesn’t deserve it, he’s been nothing but sweet and lovely the entire time and Nico’s got a _crush_ on him because of it, so it’s not him. But he’s so _frustrated._

The day in the city sounds kind of nice, though.

“Like what kind of something?” Nico asks meekly, feeling guilty for snapping.

“Maybe we’ll go see a Broadway or walk around Times Square and window shop. Maybe we’ll race each other in Central Park. We’ll decide when we get there, okay? Spontaneity. Sound alright, still?” Will’s still calm, edging towards him.

Nico nods, not moving away.

So Will tugs him into another hug, and Nico again returns it, and it’s a thing, now, he’s returning hugs.

It's not as weird as he feels like it should be.

\---

They schedule the trip for three days later, and that's okay. He can make it for another three days.

Especially with Will casually massaging a hand up and down his back as they sit at that night's campfire.

The marshmallows stick to his fingers but they're delicious, and Will's siblings all have nice voices even if Will himself can't sing, and it's nice. Nico feels calm and warm, and so very solid.

He's ignoring the looks he and Will are getting because Will's hand has not left his back or his side or his shoulder and Will really isn't paying attention to anything but him, and it's nice. It's warm, and it feels safe, and he feels grounded.

Even when Will leans over and bites the entire marshmallow off of Nico's poker, Nico only laughs and whacks his chest with the back of a hand. "Rude!"

Will smiles at him brightly, chewing, hand settling on his waist. Somewhere across the campfire, someone giggles, and it sounds like it's from the Aphrodite cabin. It sounds like Piper.

Nico doesn't look away from Will.

\---

The days before are filled with plans and with instructions of what to take and where they can and cannot go and what they can and cannot do, and it's a little infuriating. Nico is not some näive camper that hasn't experienced the outside world as a demigod before, he isn't some kid in need of a planned-out trip.

Gods, he's probably explored the world by himself with nothing but a Stygian Iron sword and a beat-up jacket more than anyone else in the damn camp's history. He doesn't _like_ these boundaries, these restrictions.

He knows what he's doing, and he doesn't know why everyone is so scared. Sure, yeah, monsters, but they're _demigods._ That's _life._ You fight it, you kill it, you move on. Letting a scratch or a bruise stop your journey is ridiculous; bodies heal and scars fade. The quests are treated with reverence but journeys out of the borders are so careful, so mandated.

All you have to do is have wits and reflexes, common sense and a bit of dark humor and you're good to go. Nico has more than enough of all of these things, and therefore he doesn't need Chiron instructing them the streets they need to walk to get to the places they've been allowed to go.

Will doesn't look overly pleased either, but that may be due to the fact he's weeks away from being sixteen and a bit tired of being treated like a child.

Nico's empathy is boundless for that.

They sit through the lectures, though, because it's the only way they're going to be allowed to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there's a thing, guys, that I'm doing with this fic. Basically, I'm incorporating as many headcanons as possible. This means you guys get to tell me all your favorites, and I'll try to tie them in, okay? So far we've got Will's faint southern accent, Nico being called Sunshine, and a few you'll see later. That's not nearly enough! Hmu with more in the comments, darlings.


	8. These streets will make you feel brand new, these lights will inspire you, 'cause now we're in New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New York, New York, and two nerds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit guys I don't have internet I am sO SORRY OH MY GOD. I moved on the third and I STILL don't have wifi, I'm posting off of my phone. I'm so sorry.  
> Title credit to Alicia Keys and Jay-Z, if I remember correctly.

The city is crowded, and loud. Taxis honk through busy streets and people push their way past each other for various destinations and try to avoid paying each other more than a few seconds of attention, and it should feel cold and detached, but...it just feels kind of nice. The air is thick with smells too numerous to identify, noise a clamorous cacophony.

No one pays them even the barest glance and it's the best thing, because they walk along invisibly in this mess without becoming much of a part of it. And there's no Mist to be seen, which is wonderful, and there's no monster bearing down on the them and there's no campers breathing down their necks.

Just the anonymity of a blur in a faceless crowd of strangers with no real destination.

Nico can't stop his smile. He's missed this. There's no obligation, here. He isn't supposed to be or say anything, and he has no mold to fill or role to play. He can stand and let the world shift around him, let himself get caught in the flux and flow of city life, or make his own path and invent a day for himself. It's so liberating he almost feels dizzy.

It takes him a good five minutes to remember Will, and to turn towards him.

Will doesn't say anything, having been watching Nico with an inscrutable expression. He grins once caught, though, and takes Nico's arm and steps right into the crowd, laughing as they get pulled downtown.

This, Nico decides, is why he likes to be around Will.

The river of people carries them past stores and cafés, past apartment buildings and garages, and finally they're deposited in a Starbucks with a mile-long line. Nico is too pleased with the prospect of coffee to be bothered about the wait, and he and Will people watch as they inch closer and closer to the counter. Quietly, they count the stereotypes, amusedly picking out college girls, businessmen, and soccer moms.

When they're finally allowed to order, Nico chooses a simple mocha cappuccino and Will lists off some hilariously long order that has the barista give him a bit of a too patient expression. Nico has to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Will defends his frankencoffee creation as they wait to receive the drinks, but Nico only repeats phrases like _the sanctity of a good cappuccino_ and _some things just shouldn't be changed_ and _Solace, I'm not trying your weird concoction, stop harassing me._

Finally, they have warm cups of the beverage Nico has been away from for far too long, and Will made an offhand comment about the magical cups in camp being able to hold hot beverages as well that makes Nico realize he’s spent far too long drinking pineapple soda every meal.

***

Nico pulls Will to a stop outside a McDonald's and offers the most pleading expression he can muster, and Will looks mildly disgusted. Not at Nico, really, but more at the establishment itself.

“Seriously?” Will asks after a few moments, tone long-suffering. “Here? But...it’s gross. And greasy.”

“It’s heaven,” Nico corrects. “Ever had an entire large fry and a frosty and dipped? Magical.”

“Dragons are magical, Nico. Hecate’s cabin does magic. This?” Will gestures to the golden arches. “This is chemicals disguised as food.”

“But _delicious_ chemicals,” Nico says, amping up his pleading expression as best he can. “Cheap, yummy, glorious chemicals.”

“That are _terrible_ for your health!” Will is visibly fighting giving in, Nico realizes, and it’s so satisfying. “As your medic, as _a_ medic, that’s grounds for a no without any other arguments!”

“But as my _friend_ ,” Nico tries, stepping a little closer, head tilting just slightly, only a breadth of space between them now. “As my _friend_ it’s a wonderfully cheap bonding experience of tasty food.”

“I honestly don’t consider anything this place sells as food,” Will states, but his tone is on the verge of giving in and they’re both aware of it. “C’mon, _anywhere_ but fast food, I’m begging. Please, don’t make me go in there, it’s a heart attack waiting to happen!”

“You’ll be fine, you eat healthy enough!” Nico says insistently, taking his arm to tug on it, still just as close and unwilling to move away.

“I don’t want it to make me sick, though, and fast food always does!” Will protests, standing strong but letting Nico tug.

“That’s such a shitty excuse!” Nico laughs, still tugging. “Please, you’ll be fine. It’s _one_ meal.”

“It’s the truth, though, but I’ll make you a deal,” Will says, his tone amused and a little exasperated.

Interested, Nico stopped tugging, forgetting to let go. “Yeah?”

“You can get McDonald’s, but to go. I’ll get something else to go, and we eat outside somewhere. Fair?” Will says, and Nico suspects he’s supposed to answer yes or settle for no McDonald’s at all.

Amused, Nico nods and drags him in so they can wait in line together, smile wide.

***

They spend the day wandering the city without really doing much of anything specific, but Nico still has an amazing time. Will’s wonderful to talk with as he gets Nico’s sense of humor and is never offended by it, even when it’s dry and dark. Similarly, actually, Will’s jokes make Nico laugh. It’s like the more they talk, the more Nico discovers they have in common...and the more they don’t.

The things they don’t have in common almost make their...friendship? Friendship work even better because they can argue and banter about the things, and teach each other. The most hilarious thing Nico learns is their difference in music tastes, though.

Nico likes the songs that play on the radio, the new pop kind of music with good beats even if the lyrics aren’t the most relatable things. He likes music to make him feel like dancing, even if he refuses to ever dance.

Will, though.

Will actually likes relatable music, sort of? Will likes the kind of music that plays in stores like Tilly’s and Hot Topic, and playing a single G chord on a piano is enough to make him hum the rest of the intro and frown (Nico discovers this by accident when he pokes at the keys of a keyboard they pass in a toy shop.). He likes the kind of bands who are meant to have a demographic of kids like Nico, and it’s...it’s kind of hilarious, really.

But Nico finds, upon listening to some of the songs Will has on the iPod he literally always has on his person somewhere (apparently, it’s now waterproof, thanks to Lou Ellen), that Will’s taste in music is actually quite decent and most of the songs are catchy. Nico likes them.

Will makes a face at some of the recent pop songs, but he likes a few, and will listen and hum along. In this way, they can share something between them and learn, and it’s almost intoxicating with how much Nico finds himself wanting more and more of it.

***

On the ride back to the camp, Will and Nico share a pair of headphones, and Nico’s head rests on Will’s shoulder as he yawns. He no longer feels like he’s been cooped up in the same areas, and it’s freeing on his mind, his thoughts clearer and his head no longer feeling like a cloud had moved in and took over. They’d walked a lot, talked a lot, and...it was a lot, but in a good way.

He’s tired, though, so he closes his eyes.

Will’s arm is warm around his shoulders, soothing, and without even realizing it, Nico falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry don't hate me


	9. This could really be a good life, good life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico gives something a much-needed makeover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title credit to OneRepublic.  
> Also, we've hit 10k, and I still haven't planned out a damn thing. Spontaneity is amazing, right?

Staring at his cabin, Nico realizes an undeniable conclusion.

He really hates the design.

It’s cliche, it’s childish, and it’s kinda of gross to him now.

Will had _finally_ given him a clean enough bill of health to use his powers again, provided he heads straight to Will if he so much as has a fingernail turn a little transparent. The first thing he did was head to Chiron and beg permission to redo his cabin, which was granted with a little confusion and a little amusement.

So now Nico has a few skeleton minions helping him take apart the entire thing, and his stuff rests in boxes on the lawn just out of range of the rubble his cabin is becoming. It’s fun, really, pulling the very bricks apart and tossing them aside, and it’s liberating.

He built this cabin when he was ball of grief and anger and petulance, and now he’s finally letting all of it go, pulling down the blackness and the depression to make room for something healthier, something newer and something he can be proud of.

He has help, too.

Will is there, and Percy, and Jason and Reyna and Hazel and Frank and...his friends. He’d shadow traveled some there, but they’d asked him to, and it’s...it feels...he doesn’t really know how to even describe the feeling, really, but it’s something warm and pleasant and he’s not out of place, because they’re all here for him. Annabeth had even stayed up with him for the past three nights designing the perfect cabin, and now the blueprints are in neat tubes by his things and she’s working on last minute material lists as the rest of them break the cabin right down to the foundations.

Of course Percy and Jason are using their powers, and it’s a bro competition of what clears debris better; whirlwinds or waves. Every now and then someone yells at one of them to stop showing off, but it’s good natured and funny, so they’re still at it.

It’s around two in the afternoon when there’s nothing left but the black marble flooring, and piles of the bricks and stones and such.

They all take a much-needed break, as they’d started early that morning, and have lunch on the old flooring. It’s full of chatter and laughter, and Nico doesn’t once feel out of place.

He’s sitting beside Will and leaning against him, his back against Will’s side, and it's comfortable. Will's arm is braced alongside his, and if Nico dropped his hand to the ground they'd touch.

It's nice. And no one comments on it, which makes it even nicer, and Nico can endure Jason's smirk if it means he keeps his mouth shut (because Jason knows, of course he knows).

Nico, after a bit, lets most of the conversation flow over his head, content to listen and eat the strawberries he and Will are sharing, smiling at the funny bits in whoever’s story and occasionally injecting a comment or two. He doesn’t have a need to make himself known, because he is. He’s present, and it’s clear. Someone will ask him his opinion or make a joke for him every now and then, and...he’s there, he’s important to them, just like they are to him.

It’s such a good feeling. He never wants it to go away.

Lunch eventually passes, and it’s time to get back to work, because Nico needs to get most if not all of the cabin done tonight because he doesn’t want to have to sleep in someone else’s or in the Big House.

Once they clean up, he and Annabeth take chalk and sketch out all the proper measurements in terms of walls and pillars and such, and Lou Ellen brings over a paste her cabin and the Hephaestus cabin worked on that’s a magical mortar to put between the stones. Then she and a few of her siblings help Nico by changing the kinds of materials he has, adjusting the black brick to smooth, charcoal gray stone and the skulls into small onyx accent bricks.

The process of building the actual walls would have taken forever had they each done it on their own, but they develop a system; Annabeth and Piper (who had wandered over during lunch) lay the mortar, and all the boys follow with bricks, laying them as quick as the mortar is down. At the rate they go at, Nico really only needs his skeleton helpers when the height gets too high for them and the roof needs to be reassembled (because there’s no risk when the dead are doing it; even if they’re crushed, it’s not like it hurts).

They manage to get the cabin put together again right before sundown, and all that’s left is putting up the lights and the shelves and bringing all Nico’s stuff back in. He doesn’t have much, so the job stays short.

The cabin is elegant, now, all straight geometric lines and classic pillars, polished gray marble exterior leading into black marble floors with plush red carpets a few skeletons had delivered straight from the underworld, from where Nico stayed when he had been down. His bed rests in a niche in the wall, and he’d kept two of the torches to put on either side, the glow a pleasant night light. The windows are...actually there this time, instead of eternal darkness. One in the niche with his bed, and two on the other walls. The door is the same dark wood as before, but shined and glossed again thanks to magic. Black onyx accents run around the room’s walls in the middle and on the very top and bottom of the walls, creating a nice, level design that Nico’s shelving sit on and his dresser ends and such.

Altogether, it’s modern and sophisticated, and a light lighter inside. Nico no longer feels suffocated by the darkness, and yet his heritage isn’t lost. He’d kept a singular skull to set in a small alcove right above the indent his bed sits in, and on either side of it he placed the Hades Mythomagic figure and the last of the cards he’d kept, along with a photograph of Bianca he’d gotten from Chiron when he spotted it in the Big House.

It feels, for the first time, like home.

Standing in the middle of the cabin, toes buried in soft carpet and studying the neat and smooth lines of everything, the red curtains and bedspread adding color to the gray and black walls and furniture, the warmth the green flames gave off and slightly eerie quality they lent the entire room...yeah, it’s home.

He is finally home.

Nico’s eyes sting a little, and he doesn’t even try to hide the smile the thought brings, running a hand through his hair and letting out a slow breath, finally facing the door where all of his friends were waiting, Will in front.

On seeing his expression, Will steps forward, pulling him into a hug he gladly returns, laughing and trying not to let any tears fall. He doesn’t cry, not ever, but gods if this isn’t a powerful moment, so he may have something in his eye.

More and more people join the hug, until it was just a big group embrace with Nico at the center, still laughing, still mostly wrapped in Will. He doesn’t remember ever feeling so happy or so content, and it feels wonderful. He hopes this feeling never has to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys it's four thirty in the morning and I woke up at two wide awake because my sleeping habits fucking suck, but the good news in in a few hours I'm going to camp out at a starbucks and I'll probably treat you guys to another chapter or two. Also, I'll have wifi Thursday night all the way until July 2nd, so I can update, which'll be nice. I have quite a bit written, I'm like five chapters ahead or so.


	10. So here I am, I'm right back at it again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico runs. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd update again, didn't I? For reference, Starbucks' wifi is slow as shit, but it's free, so hella.  
> Title credit to A Day To Remember.

He sleeps amazingly that night, and it might be the new, clean atmosphere of his cabin, and it might also be the kiss Will dropped on his cheek as he said goodnight. He’d shadow traveled everyone home, too, which should have led to a drain and exhaustion and an irritable wake up, but no. He wakes feeling incredibly refreshed and alert, and he’s showered and at breakfast earlier than he really ever is.

Will sits beside him at his table after a few moments, smile wide. “So. How did you sleep?”

“Awesome,” Nico says, sighing contentedly. “That was definitely the best decision I’ve made in a long time, it feels so comfortable in there. Nothing makes me feel like I’m stuck or like I can’t breathe. I don’t feel trapped anymore. I like it.”

Will’s grin only widens. “Good, I’m glad. You deserve to feel at home in your cabin.”

“I do!” Nico agrees, grinning. “And it’s perfect, it really is. I’m glad I have all of you. I know I already said thanks--”

“Nico,” Will says, interrupting him, expression warm. “That’s what friends are for, okay?”

He nods, smiling back and ducking his head, embarrassed but pleased.

The next morning, however, goes much differently. And honestly? Nico thinks he's cursed.

Really, he does.

Because even though things went wonderful with his cabin, with his friends, with Will (because Will is quickly surfing out of the friend category, but Nico's not sure where he'll end up just yet), he wakes feeling like he got hit by a truck.

And yesterday had gone so well...

But today? Not so much.

He wakes in a cold sweat, for one, and spends twenty minutes in a ball in the corner with all the blinds shut counting to one hundred over and over until he feels like he can move without throwing up. His stomach’s in knots, his mind and pulse are racing, and his breathing is out of his control, either too fast or not fast enough.

He doesn't know what to do.

The room feels like the fucking jar, suddenly, and he swears he can taste pomegranates.

Within seconds, he’s up, throwing clothes in a bag and adding in the essentials, all but throwing himself into a shadow the moment he finishes. He doesn't care where he ends up, as long as it’s far away.

He doesn't expect to stumble out in the middle of a forest, though, in some forsaken corner of the world (if the state of the trees is anything to go by). It’s hard to even walk, the ground covered in fallen trunks and vines and brambles and a hundred other flora and fauna he doesn't care to name. Everything looks just slightly rotted as it touches the floor, and gnarled and twisted as it reaches skyward. Surprisingly, though, instead of dreary greys and browns, everything is bright green with life and the sky, where it shows through sunlit but sinuous and intertwined branches, is a bright blue. The air smells clean and fresh and distinctly holds a trace of damp plants, like after a heavy rain.

His boots are durable, his jeans already worn and torn, and the shirt he’s wearing has probably seen better days (and also likely blood at some point) under his ownership. He hadn't exactly changed after he’d woken up, but he’d slept in older clothes that would still work for a fight in a pinch if need be. He has to; when he first got his powers he'd made some awful mistakes like falling asleep and waking up falling out of a tree in India or something. Everything had become braced for life at any moment, even his pajamas, which is fortunate because it means that he could face even this, whatever this is, right now.

Seriously, though, where the hell _is_ he? All he can hear are birds in the distance and the wind blowing through leaves, the crunching of his steps abnormally loud in the otherwise thickly silent brush. It makes him draw his sword from where he'd thankfully had enough sense to strap it to his thigh, hefting the blade uneasily.

There was quiet forest, there was pleasantly eerie silence, and then there was the quiet before the storm of monsters meant to kill you.

He's been in enough battles to accurately detect when it’s the last option, like now. The only issue is _what_ is going to attempt to kill him. After all, what hides in deserted (well, mostly, save whatever the monster is), dense, ancient forests? The trees are incredibly tall, there’s no way he’s near any civilization. These trees have never seen human life before, most likely. Have never seen the footsteps of anything but the creatures of the earth that have been here long before he or any human was, have never seen pollution or a saw or anything but the weather to break them down.

He feels like he’s about to die, which sucks, because this is totally a view he’d like to pull out his camera and snap a picture of. The scenery is honestly stunning, and he wants to capture it. It’s gorgeous - he’d make a fantastic print out of it, and Will would love it, too.

Before he could so much as draw another breath, though, a horrible scream rent through air, and Nico understandably jumped about a foot in the air and spun around. He was faced with...someone. Something? It was...really odd, whatever it was. It seemed vaguely familiar, though, like he knew the name...

In front of him by only a few yards was a man-shaped creature covered in hair, with grey eyes and canine teeth. It opened it's mouth again, releasing another screech, and Nico winced before snapping his fingers on his free hand. " _Khromandai_!"

That was it. Great, they were rumors at best, something he'd heard from a group of older demigods he'd once run into on his travels. They weren't actually supposed to exist, a theory Nico had valiantly proved wrong as they certainly lived in this forest, wherever the hell this was.

With another shriek, the creature launched itself at Nico, and he jerked out of the way, letting it sail by and crash into the foliage. Sadly, it did not stay put, lashing out at him with a crudely carved stone dagger with some kind of pus smeared on it, and he really didn't want whatever poison it was anywhere on his person, so he jumped back again.

Still not knowing anything about the _Khromandai_ other than a description, Nico had no idea if they were actually monsters or just another humanoid species. And it wasn't like he could actually ask, judging by the continued screaming that was worryingly beginning to receive answers. The smashing of underbrush grew closer, meaning reinforcements were almost literally on his ass, and Nico was, for lack of a better expression at the current moment, screwed. Royally.

Because, naturally, there wasn't a big enough or dark enough shadow in sight.

Nico slashed the sword in front of himself, praying that he'd get golden dust and not blood, anything but blood.

He needn't have worried; he didn't hit anything. The _Khromandai_ was agile and quick, and dodged back before his blade made contact. Alright, then. Offense it was. Nico had the better range anyways.

Nico began to run, slashing out again, hearing the smashing of plant life increase as the tribe of _Khromandai_ gave pursuit. Very, very quickly it was a game of cat and mouse, with Nico in the role of a desperate and unintelligent mouse that ran screaming almost as loud as his furry friends were.

The screams quickly became deafening, to the point where Nico didn't even hear his own cursing, and all he could do was push himself to the absolute maximum speed. He could feel his shins take a beating from fallen branches and thorny vines, feel the slice in an arm as he cut a turn around a broken tree, feel his panic rise and rise until all it was was a flight from a battle he would very likely not win.

Why couldn't he have ended up in China again? Why did he have to explore? Why did he have this ridiculous innate curiosity about the far and explored reaches of the world only he could get to? All it did was nearly get him killed, over and over.

Wait. Was that...? Oh, by the gods, he could spot a triple tree casualty in the distance, and the three trunks had managed to form a small shelter from the sun, with - sweet, sweet victory - a shadow he could travel in.

Now all he had to do was get there before he got caught.

Total cake.

Or, you know, it would have been if one of those damn things didn't land on him at that exact moment.

"Oh, _fuck_ no! I am _not_ dying in some random forest!" Nico snapped, twisting sharply and launching the thing off his back, forcing his legs to go faster as he slashed out behind himself blindly. He was _so_ close, just a hundred or so feet, he'd make it!

Eighty breathless feet later, his boot got caught in a root and his ankle twisted with a sharp _crack,_ sending a burst of pain up his leg that made his eyes water. His pursuers had no sympathy, closing the small gap he'd managed to gain rapidly, and so he pushed himself up and ran again, every other step feeling like a break all over again.

Thankfully, he only needed a few before he fell through the shadow, tumbling out in a deserted back alley somewhere far, far away. He hadn't had time to really find a destination, not with his desperation, and so he was here. The distance was like a punch to the gut, though, and he collapsed down to the ground, breathing hard.

He managed to straighten his leg out and get into a sitting position where he could mostly ignore the burning throb of his slightly awkwardly bent ankle, pulling a protein bar from his bag and peeling off the wrapper, eating quickly and pressing his head back against the dirty brick wall. He wouldn't be able to travel back to camp until he could force himself to focus around the pain and until he digested at least part of the bar and one of the water bottles he'd brought.

When he did arrive back, though, he had a feeling Will was going to finish killing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. You've gotta stick it out until Thursday with this cliffhanger, at least. If I get some serious pleads, I'll try to get it up sooner.


	11. My friends save me, they break my fall. My judgement's hazy, when I hit the wall, if I come up short, they help me stand tall...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will bandages up our resident Italian nerd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seriously blown away by the quick responses to those last two chapters guys, thank you so much. Here's another, sorry I had to leave you on the edge. I'm so, so thankful to each and every one of you for reading and commenting and dropping kudos, it's so lovely of you.  
> Chapter title credit to Forever The Sickest Kids

It took him two hours to get enough mental determination to stand after eating and resting, brace himself, and hop into yet another shadow. This time he came tumbling out onto the grass behind the Hades cabin, in a small area he'd built specifically to cast shadows no matter what time of day it was.

Judging by the alarmed call of his name, Will had not only realized he was gone, but that he would return at that spot. Still, he didn't move from where his cheek was flat against the ground, fingers busy digging into the dirt to stop himself from cursing as the pain in his ankle intensified about tenfold.

"Nico, where have you _been?_ You look like you've been through a shredder! Why are there leaves in your hair? Is that ankle _broken,_ what the _fuck."_ Will's hands shoved under his side, gently rolling him onto his back and catching his damaged leg, wincing as Nico actually did groan a loud curse.

"Hi, Doc," Nico managed, voice tight. "Yes, it's fucking broken."

"Okay. Um. I don't have the stuff I need for a splint, so wait here, okay? I'll be _right_ back. Seriously, don't move." Gently, Will set his leg down, standing and running around the side of his cabin to presumably sprint to the infirmary.

Nico did not move, in too much pain to even really consider it. Besides, where would he go, and how would he get there? Even crawling seemed like the worst idea he’d ever thought of. All there was to do was wait. Impatiently, painfully, and stubbornly.

Thankfully, Will returns rather quickly, and with him is some sibling Nico doesn’t know the name of and ignores when the kid introduces themselves. He’ll maybe care later when he can think straight (ha, hahaha, not with Will around).

He’s left eyeing the way Will’s hands flit over his ankle, checking the break, careful not to really add any more pain that absolutely necessary. Before he can yell another curse, Will starts to talk, commanding Nico’s attention to his face rather than his ankle.

“Hey, Sunshine, did you have a bad night? I’m assuming you did, because when I went to find you when you didn’t show up at breakfast, you were gone, which sucked, and I was really worried. You pulled a drawer clean out of your dresser, you know. There’s clothes on your floor, and you knocked another few things over. It almost looked like you’d been taken, but your bag was gone. I hope you had at least a little bit of fun on whatever adventure you went on.” Will says everything in an even tone, calm and soothing, especially when he has to bind Nico’s ankle in a brace.

Nico can’t help but make a pained face, whining a little under his breath. “Met some things that aren’t supposed to exist, might’ve made a little history, didn’t kill any of them.” He says in reply, strained. “ _Khromandai_. Know what they are? They _suck_. Really fucking loud, way too creepy and fast for my tastes.”

Will’s lips twitch, and he finishes the wrapping, setting Nico’s ankle down ever so lightly and taking a small cup of nectar from his sibling, shooing them away. He scoots closer, offering the cup. “I can’t say I have heard of them, should I have?”

Nico takes the cup gratefully, tasting delicious Italian coffee slide down his throat at each little sip he takes before answering. “Nah. Ancient tribe of hairy dog-people things. Terrifying, really. Man-shaped, covered in hair, canine-ish teeth. They screech in lieu of literally every other better means of communication.”

Will looks a little intrigued and a lot disturbed. “That...sounds horrible, honestly.” He says, lips twitching in the way he gets when holding back a laugh. “Did you get to pet any?”

Nico can’t help but laugh, leaning against Will’s offered side. “Gross, no, I was busy trying not to let them kill me with poisoned stone daggers. Creepy fuckers. Deafening in groups.”

Will smiles, arm settling over his shoulders, and the weight is warm and welcome. “Sorry. Wanna talk about why you ran?”

“Not really,” Nico admits quietly, letting them both lean back against the wall of his cabin. “But you’re gonna make me, aren’t you?”

“Um, no?” Will says, a mix of hurt and surprised. “Nico, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but it does help to talk about what bothers you. If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”

Nico swallows, then, mildly embarrassed. “Oh. Sorry.”

Will nods, and there’s a slightly awkward silence for a few moments.

“I dreamt I was in Tartarus again.” Nico finally says, words like a sigh. “And when I woke up, it...it felt like I was back in that damn jar, and I could _taste_ the pomegranate seeds, and I...I had to leave. I traveled to some random remote forest and those _things_ were there, and I broke my ankle escaping and ended up in a alley and I had to stay in the alley until I recovered enough to come here.”

Will hums in something like sympathy, and he rubs Nico’s arm gently, otherwise silent. It’s somehow just what Nico needs, and he lets his head fall onto Will’s shoulder, eyes closing.

They sit like that for a while, just resting, and miraculously no one interrupts them or pulls Will away for some injury or another. It’s soothing.

But eventually Will speaks, and the moment fades away, because demigods don't often get lazy days of cuddling and despite Nico's current mental state, the world spins on.

"I should head back to the infirmary..." Will mumbles, the words pressed into Nico's hair. "My cabin'll be at archery right now and there's usually only me and one other left to watch over everyone in the meantime."

"Did you tell anyone I'd left?" Nico asks, tilting his head back to see Will's expression.

"Yeah. I was trying to find out where you'd gone. I asked Percy, Annabeth, IM'd Jason. Hazel actually told me to IM her the second I found you, which I just remembered." Will pinks lightly. "Sorry."

Nico sighs, pulling off his bag and digging in the pockets until he finds his prism and the fee. He leans out of the shadows, casting the rainbow onto the wall of his cabin and tossing in the coin with a prayer. A few moments later, Hazel's worried face appears, relief washing over her expression as soon as she sees Nico.

"What on earth is wrong with you??" she snaps, frowning, and Nico fights a laugh. "You had me worried sick! You can't just up and disappear like that, you always get into the worst situations when nobody else is with you! Where did you even _go?"_

"Actually," Nico shifts more comfortably, Will's arm around his waist helping him not put weight on his ankle when he moves it. "I have absolutely no idea where I ended up, but I found a tribe that should have been long dead. In actuality, they're probably thriving, because they're vicious."

To her credit, Hazel doesn't even look surprised; just exasperated. "You _would_ do that."

"I would, and I did. Unfortunately, I have no pictures." Nico's no longer fighting his amused grin.

"I'm glad you think this is funny!" Hazel snaps again, sighing afterwards. "You need to be more careful, and you can't keep disappearing every time something happens. You have friends, now. We _worry_ about you."

Nico sobers, sighing himself. "I know. I'm sorry. I panicked." _Friends. Friends that care, and worry._ It's a weird thought, but it makes him feel warm.

The call winds down after that, and Hazel lets him go with a final plea to just call her instead of pulling a Houdini, and Nico says he'll try. Afterwards, Will stands and takes Nico's hands to pull him up gently, arm back around his waist so they can awkwardly limp-walk towards the dining pavilion, as it's already lunchtime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm curious; would you be interested in a Spotify playlist of the songs I plucked lyrics from for each chapter, and for the name of the story itself? The entire song doesn't necessarily match up with the chapter, usually just the one line, but if you're curious, I could totally whip it up and update it with the chapters...thereby giving you guys push alerts when I update, actually, if you have Spotify like I do. I dunno, let me know in the comments.
> 
> Update: this fic is at twenty-some chapters and I did the thing, it's under misspandamonium and it's called The Kids Aren't Alright Soundtrack. Follow it. I have great taste in music,


	12. I didn't know I was lonely 'til I saw your face.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico starts to feel a little less sunshine and a lot more storm cloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explanations at the end. Tw for mild depression, probably, and ednos, probably. Unbeta'd for the most part as my beta is having internet troubles and I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer.  
> Title cred to Against The Current ft. The Ready Set, which is a cover and I forget the original artist and I also don't care bc I like the cover better.

Nico is actually decently well-liked, now, as the greetings of relief he'd been given at lunch show. It’s definitely not something he’s accustomed to, but it feels nice all the same. Even Annabeth's slap on the back of his head feels good, and if he laughs for a solid two minutes afterwards at her expression, it probably warrants the second one, too.

He’s no longer shunned, and it definitely took some getting used to, but he finally feels _comfortable_ and that’s such a pleasant shock. He never wants the feeling to fade.

Lunch is slow, but he's content. Will sits with him at his table after the usual offerings, and the conversation between them flows slow. Will manages to work out more details from him, and Nico eventually finds himself reliving his trip, including how stunningly remote the forest was and how beautiful, but how vicious those damned creatures were and how their crude daggers were so deadly. Will's nodding along and attention keeps Nico speaking.

No one really bothers them, and they don't even attract glances anymore with how closely they sit, and that's relieving. Nico had to work to ignore the glances before, to ignore the feeling in his stomach that what he felt was wrong. It isn't, though, can't be. He's part Greek, right? And Ancient Greeks never cared, love was love.

It's not fully easing out the ingrained wrongness, but it's helping, and that's all he can ask for at this point. And people _know_ and still like him, so there's that. It was a lot harder when everyone either hated or feared him, because it just kind of cemented what kind of person he was.

Now, though...he's not sure who he is, or what he feels. He wants Will close, enjoys it, and he likes Will like he used to like Percy, only...it's more real. He _knows_ Will, knows his quirks and his flaws, and...he still wants Will. And, gods, it's not even that innocent anymore, because he's seen Will shirtless and it's not a bad sight at all.

He's a little glad he doesn't often dream, because he's been able to avoid awkward mornings.

He doesn't realize he's zoned out until Will taps his cheek, calling his name. Blinking, he refocuses on blue eyes over sun-kissed freckled cheeks, and absently notes that life isn't fair when Nico is death incarnate (you know, if you ignore Thanatos...and Hades...) in appearance. Even if he did gain a little bit of color to his skin, he's still a mess of bruises and black curls and angles. But Will? Unfair.

"Where are you right now?" Will asks softly, facing him with one leg crossed over the bench.

"In my head, I guess," Nico says, sighing and looking away, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Will touched his arm gently. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

Nico holds his breath for a moment, considering it. On one hand, it could help, but on the other? Nico really isn't fond of sharing. This _is_ Will, though, so if Nico were to share, it would be with him. You know, if it weren’t _about_ him.

“No, not right now.” Nico says, sighing out the words and trying to ignore Will’s soft expression because the butterflies are stirring and hanging streamers and Nico should really look into internal insect repellent.

"Okay." Will agrees easily. "But when you're ready, come find me."

Nico nods, and Will ruffles his hair before heading off to the infirmary for a shift. Nico can't help but watch him leave, because Will's shoulders are incredible for someone that can't fight. It's more than a little unfair.

***

Nico has come to realize that being alone sucks.

This is mostly due to the fact that being alone results in thinking and introspection, which either results in analyzing his feelings (ew) or reliving any given moment of his actually quite terrible past several years (gross). As Nico's life is not a fictional story, Will cannot always be by his side, showering him in affection and hugs.

Instead, Will works, tending to scraped knees and broken fingers and nausea, sharing his sunshine personality and uplifting pretty much everyone he comes into contact with. Nico sits alone in his cabin and tells himself he's not stewing, not putting himself through unnecessary pain, and not trying to draw together enough energy to go do a camp activity.

Nico cabin consists of him, so he sets his own schedule, which...probably was a bad power to grant to him as it results in him mostly avoiding everything and everyone. Yeah, he's accepted now, but...he isn't really accepting himself. Part of him is still stuck on the years of fear and disgust aimed at him and his cabin, part of him wants to scream and cry and demand that everyone stops pretending that wasn't a thing, that he wasn't actively whispered about and glanced at because _look, it's that Hades kid, the creepy little freak._

It's not something some smiles and thanks can erase, much as Nico wishes it was. It’s more something that sticks with him, weighing him down and tugging on his shoulders until his posture isn’t as straight as it should be, because even though he knows he is strong and he knows he is tempered steel that is never going to break, he still feels like the weight of the world is pressing and pushing him down.

He needs to go outside, probably, needs to go find something to eat or shower or really just get out of bed and do something so he isn’t on his back staring at the ceiling any longer. He wants to, the ceiling is plain and he hasn’t stuck up any posters or paintings or drawings yet, and being stuck in his head isn’t a fun place to be, but he can’t find the energy to make himself get up and move. He knows it’s there, he can feel it, and there’s a high likelihood that trying hard enough would allow him to move, but...the part of him that wants to stay and wallow is battling and winning the fight in his head, so he stays.

He can feel his stomach growling, but being hungry is no new feeling to him so it isn’t very urgent. It’ll fade, too, he knows; it’ll go away when the hunger hits a certain point and then he’ll just feel vaguely empty and standing too quick will make his head spin a little. Sometimes he’ll get nauseous and have to go eat to make it go away, but he usually finds food in time for that to not happen.

It’s not purposeful, necessarily, because a lot of the time he’s on the run and he doesn’t have the opportunity to grab a burger or whatever from the nearest fast food joint or even to grab a protein bar from his bag. There are times, though, when he just doesn’t have any desire to put anything in his mouth, no matter how hungry he is.

This is starting to feel like one of those days.

He wants company, because at least when he’s got someone else to distract him he’ll eat and talk and move because he isn’t thinking, and that’s nice. It’s a shame finding someone would involve moving. Maybe he’ll get lucky, and someone will come knock on his door and take him on an adventure to Neverland.

And maybe he will lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling and think of all the mistakes he’s made in the last few years instead, because that is what is far more likely and he should really just accept that and get on with it.

It’s funny, really, because yesterday he’d felt so free and so comforted, and today he’d woken up feeling so...grey. He was a cloud pressed to the ground, fog pouring over the edges of his sheets and pooling on the floor, tendrils clinging to the lines in the tiles and the folds of the fabric of his pillowcase. He is nothing but mist, water droplets suspended weightless in the air, and he closes his eyes and imagines himself drifting apart, imagines all of his troubles melting away and slipping down to the ground, as he’s no longer corporeal enough to hold onto them.

There’s a knock on his door at the same moment the heavy metal of his skull ring hits the smooth marble of the floor, and he starts, sitting up and swallowing back a gasp when his hand goes through the edge of the bed and his toes aren’t as visible as they should be. His voice is breathless when he speaks. “Hold on!”

“Nico?” Will calls through the door, worried. “You sound scared. Can I come in?”

There’s a lump in his throat and ice in his chest and he realizes feeling so transparent has consequences, and he was lucky Will knocked when he did because he doesn’t think he’d have noticed and _what if he faded away completely_ , could he even recover from that kind of thing?

“I’m coming in, okay?” Will waits a few beats before opening the door, sliding in and pulling it shut behind himself, rushing over to where Nico’s frozen sitting on the edge of his bed.

He can’t make himself move, staring at his knees through his hands, and he’s so terrified all he can really process is that Will’s crouched in front of him and gently taking his wrists.

Will starts to talk.

He doesn’t start a conversation; he starts a story. He doesn’t ask how Nico is; he tells Nico about his patients and how wacky they are and about the Stoll brothers and their latest prank and how one of the other Apollo campers now has purple hair. He leaves openings for responses, but he doesn’t need them, continuing on effortlessly when Nico just listens. It’s light, and friendly, and somehow it’s, yet again, exactly what Nico needs.

Somewhere during the tale of a Hermes camper’s prank on the Demeter cabin, Will’s grip slides down to his hands, and Nico realizes he’s whole again. Instead of stopping his story, Will just smiles, and moves to sit on the bed with him, pulling Nico into his lap to hug him without ever breaking his flow.

Nico’s blushing, his stomach is filled with a hardcore skeletal butterfly party, his heart is in his throat, and it’s the best thing he’s ever experienced. Will’s arms are warm, the weight of them is grounding and solid, and Will’s voice is a pleasant hum in his ears that keeps him in the present. He can’t help melting back into Will’s embrace, head resting on Will’s shoulder, listening to Will’s endless ramble with contentment and finally letting himself relax and feel again.

When Nico’s stomach growls, one of Will’s arms slides away to reach into the bag Will had brought, drawing out a container with a sandwich and grapes and setting it in Nico’s lap, laughing at one of his own jokes as he does. Nico can’t help his smile, can’t help the warmth that replaces the ice that had taken hold earlier, and everything starts to feel okay again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys. I feel like shit.  
> I mean, I have for a while, but the whole visiting my mom shit fucked me up and now my personal mental state is all over the place, and some of the shit Nico's feeling mirrors me, so there's that. I've been trying to make myself write, but it hasn't been working. I'm pushing back my next plot thing until next chapter, and so I had to fill out this one because I realized it was too quick of a jump. I have a good chunk written, but it needs a lot of work, and I don't know what the hell is wrong with me or how long it's gonna last, so I can't promise anything. I'll do my best to get it up soon, though. If you need anything from me like clarity or if you want to remind me to work on this or send me good vibes or whatever, you can go hit up my [tumblr](http://distantdreamingg.tumblr.com/). I'm sorry for this long, pointless explanation, but it's all I can offer you guys right now. Thanks for sticking around and reading each update, it really means a lot to me.
> 
> Also the playlist is up on Spotify under The Kids Aren't Alright Soundtrack, and my username is misspandamonium.


	13. I stand alone, I'm no hero, and I'm not made of stone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell, but in a hand basket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE ALL OF YOU. YOU'RE ALL PRECIOUS.  
> I spent three days marathoning The Flash and Arrow and I'm still not caught up, but I am in a much better mood, and I even busted through my art block earlier today. As a result, chapter!  
> I have a lot written, and my beta's reactions are hilarious, you guys might hate me a little bit later on ;)  
> Title cred to Five Finger Death Punch, whose name I will never stop finding hilarious.

Everything gets so much better after that, sunshine and rainbows are the only things that hover over Nico, all his bad thoughts disappear, and he and Will get married in Vegas to Bruno Mars and live happily ever after.

Or, reality kicks in, and, as this is his life, everything goes to hell in a handbasket. Almost literally.

The first earthquake is terrifying, even though it's faint tremors and nothing is damaged. The ground trembles, shifting under Nico’s feet, and the screams start. He’s tempted to scream himself, but he knows it won’t achieve anything, so instead he just tries to keep his footing and figure out what’s happening - the quake part is obvious, but the why behind it is not. He could try to use his powers, but all he knows how to do is make the shaking worse, so he sort of thinks _mm, better not._

It starts when he’s practicing in the arena, and his sword very nearly slices open another camper’s arm, and he’s once again grateful he never uses the stygian iron to practice with. He and the camper lock wide eyes, and the camper tumbles when another tremor rocks the earth. Nico’s hauling him up, pushing him towards the armory. “Get everyone to safety! Don’t let anything fall on you!”

The camper nods and sprints off, and Nico’s running towards the cabins, helping the older campers rally their younger siblings into groups. No one is entering the cabins themselves, because stuff is crashing down off beds and shelves and the Demeter cabin looks grief-stricken as pots shatter and plants spill out. It’s really all watching, because they’ve never had to go through a natural disaster at camp, and no one really knows how to handle it.

Nico rounds up everyone not actively doing anything, and fires them off in various directions to any cabin that seems struggling to save things - the remaining pots for Demeter’s kids, the half-built inventions in the Hephaestus cabin, and the medicine Will and his siblings are hurriedly ferrying out of the infirmary because glass bottles shatter more dramatically than anything else.

Chiron manages to bring everyone under control after the initial chaos, and he’s out of his wheelchair and galloping through the camp, shouting organizing orders and snap summoning a meeting of the cabin leaders.

Everyone's faces expresses tension, worry, and/or a little fear once they're all seated. Clarisse is stabbing a dagger into the wood of her beat-up chair almost like a nervous twitch, and Percy's fingers drum on the arm of his own chair. There’s probably more nervous habits, but Nico already has enough and stops looking for ideas for more.

Will pulls Nico down next to himself, and doesn't release his hand even when Nico's almost sitting in the same chair. Nico is not complaining, because both of them are tremblings and the hold feels like safety.

"Dionysus has gone to Olympus to find out just what happened, so as of right now, we're not quite sure what took place," Chiron says, even and calm. He's now back in his wheelchair, and he's at the head of the table, presence commanding. "Does anyone have anything to report?"

There's murmurs, but instead of being able to listen, Nico's head is hijacked. The buzzing of conversation fades to a faint murmur, and his vision goes unfocused, leaving him with no choice but to listen as his father’s voice rings through his mind.

_My child, your presence is needed._

Well, shit.

That's not promising.

Nico's hand shoots into the air, and the murmuring stops abruptly. "I gotta go," he says, forgetting to explain, standing up.

Will's hand is what reminds him, because he's pulled to a stop by the fingers in his. "Go where?"

"Right." Nico faces the room, gently peeling Will's fingers away. "My dad just called me. It's probably something underworld-y. I have to go, I'll be back as soon as I can to explain or I'll send a messenger."

"Be _careful,"_ Will says, speaking before anyone else can. "And don't take any reckless risks." There’s an undertone of pleading to his voice that only Nico can hear (at least, that’s what Nico hopes).

"I'll try," Nico says, already backing up towards a shadow. "Later!" He leans back, letting himself fall away.

***

He packs a bag and jumps into another shadow, stepping out in front of Hades palace. He gets briefly distracted in greeting Cerberus, because Cerberus is honestly pretty much his favorite being in the entire Underworld, so of course he has to scratch all three heads and say hello. After all, giant dog tongues are just as gross as regular dog tongues, and where would he be without being licked toe-to-head anyways?

It's a straight walk through Persephone's slowly expanding gardens to the palace doors, and he doesn't bother waiting for any undead attendees, simply pushing open a door enough to slip through and letting it shut behind him. It's not like he's new to the palace; he’s spent quite a bit of time on and off living there, after all. He even gets nods from skeletal staff as he passes, which he returns.

The throne room is as creepy as always, and Nico ignores it as always, focusing on a quick kneel to his father before bluntly asking what was so important. Hades doesn’t seem to be fazed by his attitude anymore, not with how much he’s been subjected to it. Nico's great at doing whatever is required of him, so he doesn't necessarily need to suck up and be polite - unless Persephone is in the room.

"It seems there's a bit of a problem with Tartarus," Hades says slowly, watching Nico pale. "When Gaia fell, the earth shook a bit, and some of the walls crumbled down here. One of the cliffs above Tartarus, specifically, and some of the occupants are attempting to climb out. They're knocking against the walls with everything they have, and the quake you just felt was another cliff sinking in. If they keep succeeding, the rubble will eventually be enough for them to climb."

Nico swallows, pushing a hand into his hair and trying to digest that information without getting too anxious. "So, basically, hell might escape hell. Awesome. That went so well last time."

"I'm sorry. I have no choice but to require your assistance in maintaining the walls. We are searching for other solutions, but for the moment all we can do is fortify as best as we can. This was a development no one was expecting, and it is unpleasant to us as it is to you." Hades leans back, sitting straight and tall. "Go to the edges, help Persephone keep the walls from falling any further. I must return to Olympus and to council."

Nico nods, turning after a moment to head into the nearest shadow. Focusing enough to end up where he wants to be is hard, but he manages, and all he can do is put one foot in front of the other as he gets closer and closer to the edge of Tartarus. The fear is choking, coiling around his heart and lungs with icy iron bars, and he can barely draw in a breath. He can smell the stench of the rotten air even from up here, and the breaths he does manage are rancid and nauseating.

Persephone stands on the very edges, and she's focused, vines sprouting from her feet to wrap and wind into every crack and crevice of the cliffs, holding and securing as much as possible. She looks every bit the goddess she is, her head held high, the plants bending to her will as easy as she moves her fingers, and the power she radiates should be stunning. It dulls in comparison to the power of Tartarus, and the panic that creeps into the marrow of Nico’s bones.

Every step forward brings another wave of the nausea, and Nico has to keep swallowing to avoid losing his breakfast. He stops way farther back than he probably should, but he can't make himself get any closer. Instead, he starts summoning skeleton warriors, having them check the perimeters for any signs of crumbling.  Sadly, there are several, and Persephone's vines have to keep spreading.

He doesn't know how long he spends directing warriors and fighting off the urge to sink to his knees, throw up, and cry, but it feels like forever. He doesn't really experience a drain on his powers down here, as really all he's doing is orchestrating instead of actively holding dead souls above the ground. He does send a messenger to camp at some point with a brief written note explaining that the walls of Tartarus are falling and he can't return until further notice, and he returns to orchestrating without giving himself too much time to think about camp.

***

It seems like days later when they are finally allowed to catch a breath. The borders and cliffs are wrapped tight in vines and the dull thumping against the walls in the depths loosens dust and pebbles down below. Persephone's exhausted, but now she has to maintain the vines. It's seemingly less effort than growing them, as she's able to sit with her hands resting on them instead of having to stand and force them outwards. She doesn't talk to Nico more than to say that he's free to go, that she'll send for him if she needs more help, and he's so relieved all he does is mumble a thank you and sprint for the nearest shadow.

The camp sunlight is way too bright, but it burns his eyes in the best way because it means he's not underground anymore, he's not by Tartarus, he's out, he's safe.

He throws up anyways.

Apparently he's landed somewhere by the dining pavilion during a meal, because there's an immediate uproar and Will's sprinting for him, expression terrified. Not really in a place to offer any explanations because he's still heaving (and it feels like he'll never stop), Nico focuses on breathing and shuddering through it, stares be damned. The fear doesn't leave like he'd hoped it would; because he'd been forcing himself to ignore it all, it had only built. Now it's overwhelming, dragging him under and suffocating him under the weight.

Distantly, he feels Will's arms around him, feels his hands push back Nico's hair and hears his voice, but he can't understand the words through the rushing in his ears. His hands feel weird, and he doesn't...his ring is gone, it's not on his hand, it's in the grass. His hand isn't quite there, though, it's a shadowy outline of a hand. He feels dizzy. He’s on his knees, hands loose by his sides, and Will’s the one that pulls him out of a zombie slump into something that might be sitting.

More voices sound, but Will's is louder, and they fade when the tone of Will's voice turns to something that might be anger. Nico's not really sure, his head feels like cotton and fear.

Slowly, though, things start to make more sense. Will's hands lift him, he's in Will's arms, he's being carried somewhere. Will's smell of honey, lemon, and warm wood fills his senses with nothing but Will, and he gladly lets it happen, because focusing on Will is so much better than on the numb, bone-deep terror. There's something soft beneath him, and he's gathered up against Will and it feels so nice, so soothing.

Will's hands stroke up and down his back and his arms, occasionally cupping his face to press a kiss to his hair or his forehead, and Will's voice is a constant hum as he talks about everything he can think of if the snippets Nico gets about the lifespan of the average housefly and the period of time it takes for stitches to heal depending on where they were sewn are anything to go by. Nico doesn't care. Will's voice is the best thing he's ever heard and he's listen to Will talk nonsense for hours, especially if it means he can stay in Will's arms.

Again, he's not sure how much time passes before he can make sense of everything Will's saying and he realizes he's sitting on a bed in the infirmary, or, more properly, he's sitting on Will who's sitting on a bed in the infirmary. His head is on Will's shoulder, and his eyes had been open even though he hadn't been registering anything he was seeing.

He lifts his head, and Will finally falls silent, clearing his throat. "Hi."

"Hi," Nico mumbles, reaching up to rub his slightly burning eyes. "My mouth tastes gross."

Will laughs, and he leans over to grab a small bucket and a cup of water. "Yeah, you kind of threw up. Rinse out your mouth, darlin'."

Nico's cheeks flush at the nickname, something he'd only heard Will use once or twice, and he quickly takes the cup and obeys, spitting out the taste and wrinkling his nose. Then there's a juice box in his hands with the straw already poked in and he drinks eagerly, relieved when apple replaces bile on his tongue.

Will kisses his temple softly, setting the empty cup and the bucket aside, and Nico's blush stays very much in place.

Will doesn't ask, and Nico doesn't tell, and so they sit together in silence as Nico sucks on his juice box with his head back on Will's shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow The Kids Aren't Alright Soundtrack on Spotify for easy update notifications and to see how all-over-the-place my music taste is. There's only one song on that playlist I don't regularly listen to, and that's because Jay-Z isn't really my taste.


	14. But if you sing along, a little fucking louder, to a happy song, you'll be just fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath, recovery, cuteness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'mma be honest; I'll update when I get five comments, no matter how recently I put up the previous chapter. Y'know, as long as the comments are from different people, aha. I waited about threeish days and had made myself a deal - 3 days or 5 comments, whichever was first.  
> I'm not holding you to comments, I'll update even if I don't get any at all, it just makes it quicker if people beg me aha.  
> Title cred, once again, to the amazing Bring Me The Horizon.

As it turns out, falling out of a shadow onto his hands and knees, throwing up, and promptly having a panic attack don't really do much to calm the masses.

Actually, it kinda just makes everything a lot worse and everyone is seriously panicking, which is why after he's no longer transparent and Will slides his ring back on his finger to show him it isn't gonna fall through again, he’s back in the Big House next to Will for another meeting.

He'd been in Hades almost a full twenty-four hours, apparently, and he nods along sort of placidly as he eats the strawberries Will had fetched. "Sounds about right. I couldn't really tell how much time was passing, but eternity and an entire day seem kind of synonymous in retrospect." Will's hand rubs his waist soothingly, and he loves it.

"So to be clear, Gaia basically got to free Tartarus anyways?" Percy asks, looking rightfully pissed off at the thought.

"Technically, no," Nico says, pausing to eat another berry without a care in the world for how annoying he was being. "She may have created a possibility of the entirety of Tartarus to escape into the Underworld and then here, but it hasn't actually happened yet and we could probably stop it if we thought hard enough about it."

"But _how,_ though? This seems like a pretty huge problem, is no one else freaking out about this?" Percy leans forward, elbows propped on the table.

"I mean, I already got that out of my system," Nico quipped. "We're working on a how, the gods are working on a how, somebody with eventually run naked through camp screaming Eureka and the problem will be solved, hopefully without me having to make a return trip."

"As if right now, though, Nico's off his powers," Will says smoothly, and Nico kind of just sighs because, honestly, it’s a good idea, but Nico’s still getting used to doctor!Will.

"But if he's off his powers, how is he gonna help if something happens??" Percy asks, and it's quickly becoming a tennis match debate.

"Being off my powers doesn't mean I lost them," Nico explains. "It means Will's forbidden me on pain of something I will probably not want to experience because summoning anything might make me disintegrate."

Annabeth interjects, leaning forward to bring herself into the conversation. “Isn’t disintegrating enough of a motivator to not use your powers?”

Nico smirks at her. “Yeah, you’d think,” he says, grinning wider as that made everyone shift uncomfortably. Yes, it’s nice to be liked, but it’s also nice to know he can still make people squirm.

"Disintegrating _is_ unlikely," Will admits. "But it's better safe than sorry and we've gotten by camp life just fine without skeleton warriors defending it thus far, so I'd say we're okay."

"Please. Those 'warriors' don't have shit on me and my cabin," Clarisse mumbles, the dull _thunk_ pull _thunk_ of her dagger keeping time like a metronome.

"Hey, I've summoned some pretty badass warriors." Nico points at her with a strawberry. "Including dead Ares kids, most likely. So they're pretty hardcore. And, you know, they can't die."

"Can we stay on topic?" Percy asks, exasperated. "This is important."

"And there isn't much we can really do, Percy," Annabeth says, placating. "Will's right. Nico shouldn't be using his powers if he can avoid it, and right now there's nothing actually happening. All we can do is work for a solution.”

Nico nods at her in gratitude, and he gets a grin in return. The meeting thankfully disperses pretty quickly after that, which is great, seeing as Nico had just run out of strawberries.

"Well," Will says after the meeting is dismissed, walking with Nico with an arm around his shoulders. "That actually went better than I expected."

Nico grins up at him (because even though Nico's nearing six feet Will has already cleared it) in amusement. "Were you expecting a disaster? A battle?"

"Something like that," Will admits, pressing a kiss to his temple. "C'mon, let's get you some actual food."

"Oh, gods, yes please," Nico groans, and they tug each other towards the kitchens.

***

Will sweet-talks a dryad into letting him make a sandwich, and Nico's finally able to put a dent in his appetite. He's also out of lessons for the day, one of the very few perks of having a panic attack. Will stays with him, which is also a perk.

He doesn't actually come up with any more (what more does he _need)_.

Anyways, he's leaning against Will's chest as Will leans against a tree, since he'd decided Will was way more comfortable. Will had only laughed and tugged Nico to sit right in front of him, between his legs, and Nico's glad they're well out of sight of camp.

It's not that he's...ashamed of his feelings, but more that he doesn't think he's ready for the teasing. Thankfully, Will seems to read this off of him just fine, because he hasn't once prompted or pushed and he's never this touchy when they're not alone. Nico's so grateful he'd mention it just to thank Will, but that would mean acknowledging what was going on, and, yeah, no.

He'll process this when imminent death by Tartarus's occupants fades away.

For now he's enjoying the warm weight of Will's arms around his waist, the fingers gently stroking his side, the skeletal butterflies in his stomach throwing a rave party when the tip of Will's pinky pulls up his shirt a little. It kinda makes him want to puke, it kinda makes him want to turn and kiss Will, so he settles for doing nothing and eating his sandwich in silence.

Will's not in a talkative mood, it seems, because even when Nico finishes eating, Will's chin doesn't lift from his shoulder. Instead, he lets out a sigh and nuzzles closer, setting the tempo of the skeletal butterflies about ten times faster, and wow, nerves suck, because Nico very well thinks he's going to puke for a second or two. Thankfully, it fades, and a fuzzy warmth replaces the fear, and it's somewhat like a bunny in his chest instea--

Who the hell lets him think of his own similes? They’re _terrible._

Oh, he's warm. And this whole experience is pleasant, and he can't stop his smile, or a surprised laugh when he can feel Will's smile against his neck. It’s _always_ like this with Will and it’s...Nico thinks maybe it’s worth acknowledging what’s happening in order to have it continue on a regular basis.

Almost.

"You're adorable," Will breathes, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to Nico's cheek, making a small delighted noise when it instantly flushes bright red.

"I'm not adorable!" Nico protests, hating his blush and turning his face away. "I'm terrifying! I'm super intimidating, haven't you heard?"

"You're precious," Will says, laughter in his voice as he moves his head to Nico's other shoulder to keep him in view. "A sweet, cuddly, charming little thing."

Nico whacks Will's arm, glaring, but he can't really muster too much heat. He thinks the butterflies are probably boogie dancing with a disco ball at this point. "I'm the stuff of nightmares. I summon the monsters to put under your beds. I wrestle hellhounds and win. My sword eats souls!"

"And you have the softest, loveliest curls, the prettiest brown eyes, and such a cute face!" Will claps a hand gently against Nico's cheek for good measure.

They stare at each other, in a war of who can hold their expression the longest. It's Nico who loses, lips twitching, and they dissolve into helpless laughter. It's the lightest he's ever remembered feeling, even better than after finishing his cabin. Will keeps making him rethink the happiest moments of his life in the twenty-first century (nothing will ever replace Mama or Bianca, nothing).

His cheeks hurt from smiling, And they're on the ground now, wrestling loosely before simply collapsing together, still laughing, and one of his hands is laced with Will's. He's so light. He feels on top of the world.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo every time I feel like super crappy some band drops new music and it makes my whole week. BMTH dropped Happy Song, and that's been in my head, and it's sooo good, holy shit...hence the chapter title :D  
> It made me feel better, guys, I had to put it.


	15. Come together, state of the art, we'll never surrender, the kids in the dark.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I...am an asshole. Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was the most popular chapter yet! You guys are seriously incredible, you're putting smiles on my face when few other things are, so thank you so much! I had one lovely reviewer pluck out favorite lines and let me know, and guys, that's amazing. It helps me know what you guys like best, and what you want more of. Keep being incredible, here is another chapter of nerds as my gift to you.  
> Also, if you ever need a pick-me-up song, listen to Hey, We Okay by Never Shout Never.  
> Title cred to All Time Low, who I'm seeing in October with SWS and I could cry I'm so excited.

Everything is great that day, really. He stays with Will in the forest until dark, until dinner, and it's just them laid together and swapping stories, hands interlocked. Nico learns Will has a mortal half-sister that's several years younger, and her name is Elizabeth, but she goes by Beth. His mother married Beth's father, and they work together in a big, beautiful farm in Texas. Will's not home as often as he'd like, as travel is expensive and Will does online classes so he can stay in camp year-round and be a proper medic, because all he wants is to be a demigod doctor anyways. Maybe he’ll add in mortals later, but demigods generally need a lot more healthcare for a lot more things.

Nico promises to take him to Texas when all of the hullabaloo is over, and Will's smile lights up the entire clearing.

Nico talks of his memories of Venice, of excellent cuisine and gorgeous city sights, of his Mama and of Bianca, and talking about them doesn't make him sad like it usually does. Instead, it makes him smile, remembering the fun and the laughs and Bianca's floppy green hat. Memories of ice cream on the beach and following his sister in the shops and playing games together in the Lotus Hotel make him sigh, but it's still more warmth than ache.

Will rolls towards him at the end of a story, above him with an elbow beside Nico's head, his other hand still in Nico's. "You are so incredible," Will says, voice soft. "You're so amazing. I don't even know if you see it."

Nico's cheek flush, and he opens and closes his mouth in surprise. "I, I, what?"

"I kind of want to stay here with you forever, listen to you tell me everything, listen to your emotions and watch you gesture with your free hand." His tone is still soft, and Nico's butterflies are back in full force and doing a conga line under strobe lights.

He doesn't know how Will can't hear the rattling of their bony wings, or at least the beat of Nico's heart, which is in time with the strobes (he's almost impressed by the rhythm he's keeping). Will doesn't, though, or if he does he's politely ignoring it. Instead, he brushes a curl off of Nico's forehead, and opens his mouth again.

Nico will never know what he was going to ask, at least not for a while, because the ground begins to shake beneath them and Will's mouth snaps shut. Next he knows, Will is pulling him up off of the ground and through the trees, and they're running back to camp, hopping tree roots, and all Nico has is the hold on Will's hand.

He feels like crying, and part of it is the thought of having to go back down and part of it is because he's _sure_ Will had something important to say and it got _ruined._ It's not _fair._

For _once_ in his life, he wants to catch a fucking _break._ He wants the happy ending, the prince, the kiss, the castle, whatever. He wants that warmth to _stay,_ not to be snatched away just when he's getting comfortable. He's so sick and tired of having the carpet ripped from under his feet, of getting a slap in the face every time he gets the ludicrous idea that he can actually be _happy_ for once in his life and that it'll _last._

He doesn't realize they've stopped until Will snaps his name, and he focuses.

Will's hands are cupping his face, and they're halfway between the forest and camp, and behind Nico there's a trail of dead grass stretching in a line to the trees. As he stands still, the grass around them wilts and browns, and Nico feels panic crawling up his throat. He's losing control. He's _losing control._ He could _kill_ someone! He could kill _Will!_

Before he can pull away, though, Will takes his face again. "Hey. Look at me, darlin', just look at me. You're okay. C'mon. Look." Will's tone is soothing and calm, and Nico gives in after a few frantic seconds. Even Will's eyes are calm, the blue warm and his hands gentle. "Yeah, that's it. It's okay. Relax, darlin', you're alright. Everything is going to be fine. Just take a deep breath with me, okay?"

Nico makes a squeak that was meant to be a yes, and he'd be embarrassed but he's so torn between screaming, crying, and throwing himself into the nearest shadow that all he can do is nod. He inhales when Will does, holds it, and lets it out to the counts. Will has him repeat it, and again, and he starts to feel the panic loosening in his chest. Will's patience is neverending, because he just continues to stand with him and count, hands sliding down to his shoulders and massaging lightly before finally pulling Nico into a hug.

He clings to Will, unable to help himself, burying his face against Will's neck. He's still frustrated, but he can think and breathe, which he hadn't realized he'd almost stopped doing. Will's hands run over his back, touch soothing, though one disappears for a moment and Will mumbles a 'shoo, go the fuck away' before returning it. Nico doesn't even ask, honestly not caring. Whoever it is can wait, because the need to cry is back and he really doesn't want to give in and Will's hands are helping it lessen.

He's not sure how long he stands there just breathing Will in, how many little kisses Will drops onto his hair, but he finally feels stable enough to pull back and rub his face. Will's fingers push a curl behind his ear as he does, still incredibly gentle.

"I'm sorry," Nico mumbles, feeling guilty for being so dramatic. "That was..." A mess. He doesn't want to say it aloud.

"Don't," Will says firmly. "You have _nothing_ to be sorry for, okay? You've been through a lot, and it was traumatic. You have every right to be upset, to be frustrated that it's back. I _completely_ understand. Hell, I _support_ your anger, it's justified. This _sucks."_

Somehow, Will always seems to know exactly what he needs to hear, because he feels a weight slide away. "Okay."

"You good?" Will asks, grinning and stroking his cheek affectionately with a thumb.

Nico can't help but return the grin, albeit a lot weaker, nodding. "Yeah. I'm alright."

"Good. We have a disaster to deal with." Will takes his hand again, leading the way to the Big House.

***

There's another meeting. No one looks even remotely calm, and really, that's to be expected at this point. Nico can feel the tug of his dad's call but he ignores it, not wanting to go. He doesn't even tell Will, but Will's expression says he's already aware and he's not gonna stop Nico from fighting it.

Percy is kind of freaking out, but Nico tunes him out because panicking again is not something he wants to deal with. In fact, he does the most childish thing and plugs his ears. Thankfully, Will let Nico burrow into his side, so it's not overly obvious at first.

Somewhere along the line someone asks him a question, though, because Will nudges him up gently. He doesn't have shame when he says he wasn't listening, but Percy's expression suggests he should have. Whatever, Percy handles stress better, this doesn't come as a surprise. Percy's powers don't include sucking the life force from things when he isn't in control, either.

"I said," Annabeth snaps, ignoring Percy's hand on her arm. "Are you going to go find out what just happened? We can't do anything if we don't know what's going on."

"I wasn't planning on it," Nico admits. "But my dad's calling, so I can if I have to."

"Nico, no." Will's expression is stern. "We'll find another way."

"He _is_ our way!" Annabeth said, insistent, gesturing towards Nico. "Hades is his _dad!_ He can pop right down! Anyone else will need a Quest and days time, _trust_ me I've _done_ it."

"Good for you," Will snaps. "Nico's health is a little more important than finding out what a little tremor was. We'll know soon enough. His father doesn't lack messengers. I'm not letting you guys send him back down there, not after how he came back up this morning. Back off. It's too soon."

"It's his _job!"_ Annabeth says helplessly.

The fighting continues, and Nico twists his ring, feeling small. When he finally talks, it was clear no one was expecting him to, because he's greeted with silence. "Do you still get nightmares?"

"Do I what?" Annabeth asks, after a moment, realizing the question was directed at her.

"Do you still get nightmares?" Nico repeats. "About being down there?"

Percy leans in, arms folded on the table. "We both do," he says softly.

"Exactly." Nico twists the ring a little faster. "But you two were together. You had each other to keep sane. I...I didn't. Not even Mrs. O'Leary could get down there, otherwise she'd be stuck and turn feral again. So I stayed alone. And when I finally got out, I got put in a jar, and I starved. I can't be in small spaces anymore, let alone back on the edges of Tartarus without panicking. I'm sorry. I could barely even think when I was down there, I just kept thinking _one more minute and she'll let me leave_ because it was the only thing that kept me going. Persephone's on the edges of the cliffs anyways, she'll know exactly what happened. My dad's call isn't urgent because there's not really much I can do, I'd just be going to get a report. I'd rather wait for him to send one, I _really_ don't want to go back down there."

The silence around his confession is thick, broken only by the slide of Will's hand against his own as he takes Nico's fingers, stopping him from the frantic spinning of the ring. He squeezes, and Nico squeezes back, releasing a slow breath and dropping his head.

"I...I'm sorry," Annabeth says slowly. "I never...I didn't think about that. I forgot you were alone. That must have been..."

"Hell," Nico says dryly, lifting his head and managing a small, humorless smirk. "It was hell, Annabeth. Literally."

Percy's expression beside her shocked shame makes it clear he doesn't know if he's allowed to laugh, and Nico doesn't offer him any help, instead settling back against Will's side and flatly ignoring everyone else. He's tired and annoyed and he feels drained, he doesn't really care what else happens. As long as he's not being forced to go, he doesn't need to fight anyone, so his attention doesn't need to be focused. He can get a briefing from Will later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys. This 10k monster is more than I've ever written of anything, and it's still coherent. I actually didn't know I had the ability to hold a thought this long! The next milestone is 50k, right? I have /no idea/ if we'll get that far, but we can try!  
> I have a task for you guys. To keep my well of ideas going, fire predictions at me, or headcanons pertaining to this fic in particular. Alternately, give me lines from songs, and if I know the song and the line I'll see if I can work the mood into a future chapter. We're in this together at this point, and this is as much my giant dork baby as it is yours.  
> Thank you so much!


	16. I've my mind on your body and your body on my mind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico cuts his hair, guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so fucking cute you made last chapter even more popular. I'm sorry, I would've updated earlier but I spent the first half of today being a mess and the second half trying to get my shit together, and then this fucking chapter did not want to post because google docs was being a trashbucket bc my laptop can't handle docs over 10 or so pages and this one (part three) is at 20.  
> Title cred to Demi Lovato

He doesn't really remember much more of the meeting, but that's probably because Will's hand in his hair put him to sleep.

Will shook him awake when the meeting ended, helping him up and back to his cabin, where he leaves Nico with a kiss on the forehead and a promise to be back in the morning. Nico's butterflies do a lazy and tired waltz, and he crawls straight onto his bed and promptly knocks out.

He dreams. It sucks. But there's a solution somewhere, he just has to work it out.

Basically, he's back in fucking hell, and the lava river's heat is searing his skin and he knows he should drink but godsdamnit that shit _burns_  so he's gonna put it off as long as possible. He can hear the walls shake and tremble, can see the group of monsters clumped against one of the walls and banging, pounding on it, shaking the very foundations. Dust rains down constantly, cloaking everything in a layer of grey and making Nico cough, raising the hem of his collar over his nose so he can breathe and shielding his burning eyes with his hand.

The pounding is like a war drum, an even tempo of thumps that makes Nico's stomach twist. There are too many monsters, too many to count, but it doesn't look like any of the truly bad ones have awoken from the war yet. It's a small relief.

A boulder flies past Nico, and, with horror, he realizes they've started to dig. They're removing the cliff's support, all the way at the base. With the pounding, the shaking of the wall, the cliff doesn't really stand a chance, even with Persephone's vines.

He feels sick. He can't help, he has no powers this far down, or at least none that'll help. Even if he went wild with his soul-eating sword, he'd be overrun and killed in moments.

Wait.

Stygian iron eats souls. The monsters aren't reborn.

If the make the cliffs deadly, if they line them with shards of deadly iron, collapsing them won't work. And...and Hazel's jewels! They're deadly to the touch! If the walls were lined in her jewels, climbing would be pointless - they'd die and restart at the bottom. It's a dizzying thought, and he can only pray that it's a good one, because they don't have many more options.

***

He wakes with a start, falling off his bed and dry heaving a few times, the stench of Tartarus still in his nose. Still, he crawls to a shadow, and he very nearly gets to it before there's a warm, familiar pair of arms around his waist, lifting him up and setting him back on the bed. He doesn't even get to react before he's pulled in for a hug.

It feels like magic, a balm he didn't even know he needed as he curls up into the hold. The nausea begins to fade as Will's hands massage his back, Will's chin on the top of his head. He's practically swaddled, nestled in Will's lap and curled up. He'd move, but it's so soothing the thought makes him frown, so he stays.

"I think I have a solution." Nico mumbles, after several minutes have passed.

"Yeah?" Will asks, leaning back, one hand cupping his face. "That's amazing! What is it?"

He explains briefly, lets Will massage his hands while he talks because it feels wonderful and it's so calming. Will nods along in all the right places, and kisses his forehead when he's done. "You're incredible. Want to go tell Chiron?"

Nico nods, sliding reluctantly off of Will's lap and letting Will lead him by the hand. On the way, he remembers to ask why the hell Will was even in his room.

Will actually blushes a little, much to Nico's delight. "I wake up with the sun, you know that. I went to check on you, and I didn't have the heart to wake you. You woke up before I could leave."

He can't help it; he coos.

This earns him a light punch on the shoulder and an even brighter blush, and a confused Chiron gets to greet them while Nico's still cackling.

***

It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s a start, and Nico _does_ have to go down and tell his father about it.

The visit sucks, he has to pretend he isn’t trembling the entire time and that he’s not about to throw up when he opens his mouth. It goes well overall, though, because Hades is nodding along like the idea might actually work, and Nico’s dismissed so Olympus can work out how to put the solution into action.

When Nico’s back at camp, he makes a declaration that any and all further underworld messages can be carried by skeletons, and that unless there’s an actual, life-or-death emergency, he doesn’t want to be spoken to. He doesn’t want anyone hounding him for details, can’t handle anyone asking about just how bad hell within hell really is.

He doesn’t need to tell Will that he’s the only exception, because Will knows without him having to. It’s just another thing Will reads off of him effortlessly, another reason Will is closer to him than anyone else.

Will drags him into the infirmary, and he spends the day following Will around and carrying the bin of bandages, cutting them to right length and passing Will various tools. They don't talk much, Nico mostly just listens as he cares for his patients, but it's nice. Nico's mind is distracted enough that he doesn't get upset again, and Will's mere presence is soothing enough to keep him calm.

And the end of the day, Nico waits as Will changes, peeling off the medical uniform scrub shirt he always wears. Nico would like to say he politely averted his eyes, or that the sight didn't affect him, but the truth is he stared shamelessly at Will's back as Will shifted through the shirts in his cubby, watched the muscles move and pretended his own cheeks weren't red.

Nico would give up a lot of things if it meant his hands could follow the movement of Will's shoulders, if his mouth could trace the lines and the edge of Will's jaw, if he could count the freckles dotting over Will’s skin. He knows if he said anything, Will might actually let him, but the act of opening his mouth and making the words come out is still beyond him.

His thoughts are less a feeling that he's doing something wrong and more a feeling that he's missing out on something right, and it's progress, but it battles with embarrassment and anxiety and...gods strike him, he's _shy._ Will's beyond beautiful, and Nico's just...not. There's no comparison, he knows this, he's pretty sure Will knows this, and so it would be an imbalance. Will deserves someone that can match him, and settling for Nico isn't that.

So he watches Will's arms flex as he pulls on some nerd shirt with a quote from some show, and he swallows, pretends the sight isn't being committed to memory for later use (he's got a sex drive, and he's been so close to Will lately that it's driving him up a wall). Will, if he feels the stare, doesn't react. Instead, he turns with a smile, tossing the scrub shirt into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room and hooking his arm with Nico's, leading him from the room and toward the dining pavilion for dinner.

***

When Nico stands in front of the mirror later, after a shower, it doesn't feel like insecurity. It feels like stating facts; he's thin, he's pale, he's got scars from all the stupid shit he's done, he's earned the nickname The Ghost King for more than just his powers. He's got dark eyes and dark hair and the rest of him is a contrast that's nothing short of stark, and his face is still angular from the years he'd spent barely eating and the time in the jar when he dropped what little mass he had. He's gotten most of it back, he's no longer scarily skeletal, but his face has yet to fill out and he's more collarbones than shoulders.

He finds a sweater on the floor of his closet, wanting the warmth despite the seasonally average temperatures. Will, he thinks, does not go well with him. Tanned skin, broad shoulders, tall build and sunny blond loose curls, blue eyes that remind Nico of the open sky and gods Nico's head over heels for this wannabe surfer. It's sappy, it's gross, he wouldn't give it up for the world.

Will's hands are larger than his, marginally, but they're averagely sized hands. Nico's always been a little on the small side, it had been a joke with Bianca when they were little because she'd always been taller than him. Even now, when she's trapped in death and frozen at a his own current age, he _might_ be as tall as she had been.

When he’s facing the mirror again, he reaches up and tugs on the mess that is his hair, because describing it as curls is really starting to push what it means to be literal. Not that his hair has ever actually been neat, or even brushed, but it’s longer now than he’s really ever let it get and it’s getting in his eyes a lot. He should cut it. Now, before he forgets.

He knows it won’t matter if he uses a knife or scissors, because he’s gotten his hair cut professionally and he’s done it himself with any and all manner of sharp objects and it always looks like bedhead, so he just roots around his room until he finds a pocket knife with a blade that’s sharp enough to cut his hair relatively easily (he tests it on his hand, like he often does with weapons). Then it’s back in front of the mirror and beginning the irritating process of freeing up his field of vision, letting the curls fall to the floor where he’ll sweep them up later.

He’s not really worried about looking good, and he does his hair like he’s always done it; by feel. He uses his fingers as a measure, making sure none of his curls are longer than his outstretched middle finger, and cutting them if they pass it. It’s worked well thus far, earned his the rightful assumption that he doesn’t care.  Because of how methodic and simplistic he’s working, it only takes him about ten minutes, and he looks a little less like a zombie.

Okay, he looks like a zombie, but one with better hair.

He cleans up, then crawls into bed, and it feels funny on his ears because they’re visible again, he’d done slightly shorter shaping around them to make his life a little easier. He finds his thoughts drifting back to Will, specifically the bared, freckled skin he’d had the privilege of viewing up close.

Skin that smooth, that golden should be illegal. And muscles that rippled like that? Did Aphrodite have it out for Nico, more so than she did when he fell for Percy in that hero-worship bullshit?  Because Nico’s doing all he can to just focus on Will’s back, and not start to fantasize about his arms, too. The arms were worse, because Nico’s felt them, felt them wrap around him and lift him up - which, gods, since when was he into that? He used to hate to be touched, but those arms - the warmth, the subtle curve of his muscles, because Will’s not obviously built, he’s more lithe and he could be a runner, if he’d wanted. Gods know the guy is fast, but he almost never uses it.

It makes him dreamy to stare at, though, so there’s a bonus in there because if he’s not running then he’s staying in easy view, and Nico doesn’t need to put out a lot of effort to keep him there.

He should be concerned with how cuddly-sappy his thoughts are, how if he could show a visual of his mind it’d probably be glittery teddy bears where Will is concerned, but...thinking about Will fills him with a pleasant warmth, makes him smile. He, the son of Hades, the Ghost King, the kid that’s managed to frighten pretty much everyone he’s ever met with his simple existence...is a puddle over some boy.

It’s sad.

(No, it’s beautiful, he’s never felt like this and he never wants it to end.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost made the chapter title lyrics from Paramore's the Only Exception. Almost.


	17. Without you, there's no reason for my story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerds, so much nerd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...yeah I'm just, like, a shitty updater. I don't know. This week or whatever was weird. Also, last chapter wasn't super popular, aha.  
>  Also, depending on how you look at it, this chapter is either merciful or an example of how I'm a total asshole. It's also kinda short, I'm sorry. Make me update soon aha. I don't have a lot past this written, though.  
> Title cred to Anarbor.  
> YO BEFORE I FORGET **NICO'S 17 HERE, WILL'S 18.** I upped everyone's ages by like...two, three years, 'cause I'm not about writing that underage shit..

The following days at camp are blissfully calm, and the only comments he gets on his haircut are from Will and Hazel. Hazel says she can finally see his eyes again, which makes him squirm and turn his head away because she makes it sound like she’d missed them, and Will says he looks amazing and promptly buries both hands in Nico’s newly-short hair to play with it.

(Will’s reaction is so unexpected Nico’s left staring straight ahead at Will’s jaw in shock as he tries to process it, and Will just smiles and runs his hands through Nico’s hair for the next fifteen minutes, until Nico bats him away.)

He and Will spend the majority of the time with each other, with Nico trailing him in the infirmary every now and then and the two of them grabbing food but eating on the beach together. They talk, a lot, mostly just getting to know each other even more.

Nico talks about Croatia, about Washington DC, about his mother and about Bianca. Will talks a lot about Beth, a little about himself, and a lot about his mom as well. Will hasn’t really seen Beth in over a year, and he and Nico share the ache of missing sisters, so it’s another bond. The closer they grow, the harder it is for Nico to ignore how Will makes him feel.

***

Will's arms are around his waist, and Nico's hands are on his chest. The contrast of their bare skin is beautiful, and every touch feels electric. Will's lips press against his throat, right over his pulse, and Nico lets his head fall back. He shudders when he feels the slide of Will's tongue, and he's pulling Will closer, needing more of his heat and his hands and his mouth.

There isn't enough friction between them, not yet, and Nico doesn't really know what's blocking them but he wants whatever it is to go straight to hell because anything in the way of pure bliss is definitely evil. He can feel Will's hand trail down his back, stopping just above his hips, and he opens his mouth to tell him to go lower...but all that comes out is a moan, because Will's biting down on his neck and it's probably the best thing that has ever happened to him.

He tries to tug Will even closer, tries to get them fully pressed together, and he gets a grand total of five glorious seconds of the feeling before they're both jolted.

Will starts to fade, and Nico's scrabbling at him desperately, helplessly, and nothing makes sense until another slight tremor rocks through him and sends him tumbling to the floor...and out of his bed.

Shit.

How the hell is he gonna look Will in the eyes without blushing now that his unconscious mind has decided, without a doubt, that Nico wants his dick? Answer; he's not, and he's going to have to be really fucking creative with his excuses. _Sorry, Will, your stunningly blue eyes caught me off guard. Sorry, your smile temporarily blinded me. Sorry, you touched me and all I can think about is what you look like without your clothes on._

All Nico wants is a little bit of mercy, really. Some time to get his shit together enough to finally kiss Will, and maybe actually have a chance at something like the dream that's left him incredibly frustrated to actually happen. It's maddening. Why did Nico have to go and get close to a boy with a body like that, with a voice that would probably sound incredible wrecked?

He needs a cold shower or a few more minutes to himself, either one, because his thoughts are getting out of control. A lot like his libido, really.

***

He may or may not avoid Will that morning, and if he does it's just until his head is clear enough to pretend like he didn't have any fantasies in his dreams. Will doesn't seem to even notice, which is relieving, but he can feel Piper's stare on him when he's getting lunch and he's pretty sure the Aphrodite kids have a radar for repressed feelings or something because when he passes by their table, he hears a chorus of giggles.

He gets to his table acting like his cheeks aren't on fire, and that the actual fire he's sent part of his food into is the reason behind his flushed face. He'd even made sure to lean in too close. He totally didn't send up a prayer to Aphrodite herself, though, nope. Nothing can be proved, he's innocent.

Unlike the dream he had that morning.

Gods, being a teenager is harder than he'd thought it would be. Instead of gaining wisdom, strength, and privileges, he'd gotten all of that with hormones and puberty and a somewhat constant state of exhaustion. He'd like to return adulthood back to sender, and he doesn't even need a refund, he just wants to go back to being a kid with a big sister and no worries.

Sadly, life doesn't seem to work like that, and he gets to look forward to his eighteenth birthday as a stressed, depressed, and moderately well-dressed sexually frustrated boy with too much black in his wardrobe.

It should be fun.

***

He's cornered at the campfire, but instead of going towards the logs, Will merely takes his hand and tugs him towards the beach, and he's led to the still-warm sand. He's not, by any stretch of imagination, complaining, especially when Will's fingers slide between his for a better grip.

Will doesn't say anything, just sits down, pulls Nico down in front of him, and then wraps around Nico in a hug.

"Um, are you okay?" Nico asked, taking one of Will's hands in both of his own. He's startled to find it's trembling.

Will shook his head a little, and when he speaks, it's almost against the skin of Nico's neck and Nico can't help the shiver it earns. "Had a bad day. Frustrated. Need to calm down."

"Oh." Nico says, after a moment. He begins massaging Will's hand to give himself something to do, and the shaking stops almost instantly. He doesn't bother trying to hide his grin at being able to help so quickly. It feels nice, because Will's always the one helping him, and being needed and wanted is such a lovely thing. He can see why Will likes to care for everyone in camp, at least medically.

“That feels nice,” Will mumbles. “Soothing.”

“That’s the point.” Nico says, and grins. “I’m trying to give you a little solace.”

It takes a total of three seconds for it to click and for Will to whack him lightly on the side of the head, sending both of them into helpless laughter. “I cannot _believe_ you used my name in a pun!”

“I had to! I didn’t have the _will_ power to resist!” Nico says, almost unable to get the words out through more laughter.

Will pushes him into the sand, but he’s laughing, and Nico’s relieved. Frowning doesn’t fit Will, and laughter definitely does. He doesn’t care about the campfire, not when he has the option of laying on the beach with the boy that’s literally straight out of his dreams.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow the playlist, hmu on tumblr, shoot me things you wanna see, idk. Say hi, man. I post when I can't forget about it, honestly. Make my email and my tumblr remind me.


	18. Close your eyes and realize we were meant for this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me, I love you guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great news, guys! This chapter is kinda long!  
> Title cred to Youth In Revolt

It’s not a dream this time, when they’re alone in his cabin and Will is an inch or two in front of him, and he’s leaning against the cabin door and he can feel the tension, feel the charge between them. He’s close enough to almost taste the breath from Will’s mouth, and it’s something addicting like bubblegum and of _course_ it’s bubblegum.

If he tilts his head back, they’ll kiss. They’re that close. He’d finally know if Will’s lips are as soft as they look. If the way Will’s eyes are locked on his own mouth is any indication, he’d get kissed back. It’s dizzying, and it gives him a headrush of power and he’s giddy.

All he wants to do is close the distance, but he knows he can’t.

It’s not because he’s not good enough for Will, though that’s definitely a part. It’s something else, something he’s forgetting. He can feel it, nudging gently at the back of his line, and he can feel the importance. It’s okay, though, he’ll get to it, but right now he’s just gonna focus on the moment and try to draw up the courage to tilt his head.

(Vaguely, he notices Will isn’t moving, which is odd.)

He still doesn’t move, though, and after a few moments he closes his eyes. “This isn’t working.”

He feels Will dissolve in front of him, and when he opens his eyes, Lou Ellen is sitting on his bed with a frown on her pretty face, and an index card with a sketch of Will that Nico had done in her hand. “I don’t get it. How are we gonna work through you being terrified of a bad outcome when you won’t even try to kiss him?”

“It doesn’t feel real! I can tell that it’s not, I can feel that it’s Mist. I’m sorry.” He collapses down next to her, onto his back, folding his arms over his eyes.

“Honey, you’re never gonna work through anything if you won’t even try,” Lou Ellen says softly. She sounds maternal, and Nico wonders if she is anything like her mother. Thoughts like that make him think of Tartarus, and he shivers, because the barest memory of being overrun by the monsters in his first few hours is still enough to make him feel sick and pissed off and terrified all at once.

“Um, Nico?” Lou Ellen asks, and there’s something weird in her tone. She sounds farther away, too.

He opens his eyes, and freezes. There is ice on his sheets, a thin layer of frost that spreads over his jeans, and the air is colder. He knows what this is, it’s his temper, and he can feel the rage boiling under his skin from the memories but he doesn’t know what to do with it because he can’t pretend it isn’t there, can’t pretend it’s not real. ”Get Will.”

What had started as him inviting Lou Ellen over to help him sort out his head ends in her fleeing the room, and he’s managed to scare off yet another possible friend. He’s trying to control his temper, but now it’s directing inwards because he’s so frustrated at his lack of control and himself in general.

It’s getting colder, he can feel it, and he knows the ground will start to split unless he calms down. There’s heat in him, though, and the hotter he grows the colder the air around him, the darker and longer the shadows. He is a horror figure, how could he think he’s safe here? Simply _being_ is a danger to the innocent campers around him, especially since he doesn’t have enough control over his damned powers.

He’s standing, trailing frost, dragging the emergency bag from under his bag. He’s so pissed at himself that he can drag the shadows to him, doesn’t need to move to travel, and he very nearly does before the door bangs open.

Will does not stand and stare, Will does not flinch away, Will is not scared. Not of him, not at all. He strides in, cracking the frost with his sandals and pulling Nico into a bear hug, lifting him straight off of the ground.

The surprise is so wholly effective that the radius of the frost melts down to just on himself, and then it melts away from him, too. He just stares at Will with wide eyes as he’s set back on his feet, and he’s annoyed, sure, but he’s so confused and curious he can’t bring himself back to the burning anger.

“How do you do that?” Nico asks, finally, defeated. Wll raises a brow, so he continues. “You always know just what to say or do. How?”

Will doesn’t answer for a moment, and he pulls away to shut Nico’s door. “I dunno. I go with my instincts. Usually all you need is a hug, I guess because you never used to get them?”

Nico drops onto the edge of the bed, rubbing his face. “That sounds so pathetic, so simple.”

“Why is it pathetic?” Will asks, sitting beside him. “Everyone needs affection, be it hugs or full cuddles or even just words. It’s natural. We, as people, like to feel loved. And you’ve been through a lot of shit, too, in the past few years, so I’d say you’re entitled to a hug lasting about a whole other year, minimally.”

Nico sighs, leaning against Will’s side tiredly, accepting the arm that curls around his waist. “But I’m not…” He pauses, looking for the words, and Will lets him, merely stroking his side gently. “I’m not that bad off, I guess? Like, there’s people that have it way worse, and most of it is my fau--”

“Nope.” Will’s tone is cheerful. “I’m not allowing you to  blame yourself for trauma that was out of your control.” He presses a kiss into Nico’s hair, continuing before Nico can form a reply. “Besides, just because someone else is going through ‘worse’ trauma...yours isn’t any less valid or any less of struggle. Whoever told you that is trying to make you feel guilty for feeling bad, and that mindset is part of the problem.”

Nico tilts his head back, studying Will’s expression. It’s open, honest, and calm. Soothing, like Will always is. He feels weirdly sad, so he just lets his head settle again. He opens his mouth to speak, but all he can muster is a sigh. He’s so tired.

Will doesn’t prompt him, instead shifting and tugging nico back, farther onto the bed, wrapping him in a proper cuddle. He lets out a breath, closing his eyes and curling around Will’s embrace, relishing the safety and security. What would he have given to have this a few years ago?

***

He’s not made much progress with how to treat Will, but he fell asleep in Will’s arms, and it’s the best sleep he’s ever had, so. There’s that. It’s now even more confusing, but it’s not like he’d trade that nap away.

Will woke him for dinner with a gentle massage of his arm and a peck on the cheek, informing him that he’d been asleep for about two hours. Nico stares at him in shock, and he immediately demands to know why the hell Will stayed the whole time.

Amused, Will sat up, showing the set of headphones run up through his shirt and connected to the iPod in his hands. “I like music, and I like cuddling you. Wasn’t hard.”

Nico’s cheeks burn, and he buries his face in the sheets to hide a smile. Will’s laughter says he knows about the grin, but Nico doesn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

That’s when Will tickles him.

Nico doesn’t shriek, he yells, he totally yells, tackling Will back onto the bed for revenge. They wrestle, grappling for the upper hand, and Will rolls them until he’s on top, and he almost manages to pin Nico down before Nico squirms enough to flip them again. Will’s laughing, and Nico would be to if he wasn’t concentrating. Will seems to anticipate his every move, catching his hands and pushing them away. It’s fun, more fun than he’s had in a while.

They end up on the floor, eventually, a mess of tangled limbs and sheets and laughter, and Will does manage to pin him down and smack a kiss to his cheek before freeing them both from the sheet and pulling Nico up. “Feel any better?”

“I...yeah, I do,” Nico answers honestly, a little surprised. He probably shouldn’t be, but he is.

“Good.” Will drops an arm over his shoulders, hands him an earbud, unpauses the music, and leads them both to dinner.

***

They do something different and join the camp fire that night, sitting between Cecil and Butch from the Iris cabin. Butch is built like a damn firehouse, and he’s easily almost half a foot taller than Nico, but...he’s got a rainbow tattoo on his bicep, so Nico just sort of finds him entertaining rather than intimidating. Cecil had Will’s attention, chattering on about an idea for something-or-other, but it’s Nico’s shoulders that his arm is back over, and Nico doesn’t feel the need to leave like a third wheel.

Butch is munching away on s'mores, and every few marshmallows he hands one to Nico, and it makes Nico grin every time. Butch isn’t one for exchanging a lot of words, apparently, and that’s fine because honestly? Neither is Nico. Will’s just an exception.

There’s a guitar being passed up the circle, signaling a sing along, and everyone hushes down as the Apollo kids do a hot-potato sort of ritual and pass the guitar along themselves.

There’s a very surprised murmur when it ends up in Will’s lap, and Will clears his throat. “We’ve been over this. I’m not singing material.”

“Oh, bullshit,” one of Will’s sisters snaps, earning a shushing and a warning of language from some other cabin head, who she flatly ignores. “You just don’t like your voice, but the rest of us do. Sing!”

She starts a chant, and Will pales a little and then pinks, and Nico’s watching him with a wide grin, and at Nico’s nod, Will rolls his eyes and draws back the arm around Nico’s shoulders to properly hold the guitar.

There’s scattered claps and some cheers, and Will rolls his eyes, getting comfortable. “Yeah, yeah, you’re all terrible.” He tunes the guitar absently, perfectly, as he speaks.

Then it’s silence, and Will taps on the battered body of the Apollo cabin campfire guitar, which has been around for ages and actually kind of sucks as far as professional guitars go, according to any Apollo camper that gets five minutes of your time on on the topic of music. Then he clears his throat, starts to strum, and starts off a lively cover of _Don’t Stop Believin’_.

Nico understands why he picked the song, because he’s right next to Will. Will’s voice is as gorgeous as the rest of him, but not traditionally; it’s a little raspy and a little deep and nothing like the silky smooth vocals of the rest of his cabin. It also fades out by the chorus, as Will simply mouths along as the rest of his cabin and some of the other campers sing loudly.

Will’s cheeks heat when he catches Nico’s gaze, and Nico cannot comprehend why Will would say he’s not musically inclined when he’s playing without looking at the strings and doing so perfectly, when his voice is what morphine must sound like, at least according to Nico.

As soon as he’s down playing, Nico whacks his arm. “You told me you couldn’t sing! You liar!”

There’s a small silence, and someone snorts, and then there’s laughter rippling through the group. Will raises his hands, bracing the guitar between his elbows and his knees. “I’m pretty sure I phrased it as me hating to sing, but I stand by that either way!”

“What? You expect me to believe you after _that?_ Psh. I’m so demanding a song from you next time you tell me to pick something I want.” Nico crosses his arms, chin tilting up as he looks away, playing haughty. He knows everyone’s attention is on them, but...he doesn’t feel shy, not tonight.

He feels proud, because even Will’s hanging off his words, and the laughs he’s earning aren’t _at_ him, not like they used to be.

Will’s hands drop back onto the guitar. “Yeah, good luck with that. You know I don’t ever give you exactly what you ask for.”

“Would you too just kiss already?” one of the Aphrodite campers blurts, then blushes bright red.

There’s a beat, and then Nico and Will are both wearing bright, matching cherry-cheeked shock on their faces.

“...Anyways,” Nico blurts, scrambling up, almost vaulting over the log and speeding off towards his cabin.

“Oh, shit, fuck, _Nico,”_ Will calls his name, and it’s slightly exasperated, so Nico moves faster even as he hears Will’s steps in pursuit.

“Nice, Carissa,” someone snaps, and the girl replies, but Nico’s too far away to know what she says.

He’s almost at his door when Will’s hand catches his arm. “Can we please talk?”

“Why?” Nico snaps, pulling his arm free. “So you can tell me I need to stop pining after you? No thanks, I’ve been trying, and it’s not working. I’d rather skip that.”

“Nico,” Will snaps, taking his other arm and spinning Nico until he’s facing Will, and before Nico can react Will pulls him into another hug. “Look, I’d kiss you right now, but it’d be a cliché and you’re kinda vulnerable on top of that, so I’m just gonna hug you, tell you you can be a little dense, and then let you go to sleep, okay?”

Nico swallows, slowly bringing his arms up beneath Will’s to hang onto his shoulders. “I...I don’t understand.”

“Because you’re not experienced,” Will said quietly. “You’re not used to anything like this, so I haven’t been pushing you. But, just to clear everything up, I do find you attractive and I would, at some point in time, be interested in taking you out on a date. I’m not gonna put any pressure on you, though, and I’m totally happy also just being your friend if that’s all you ever want from me. I wanted you to make sense of this all on your own terms.”

Nico doesn’t actually have the ability to form a coherent reply to that, so he just pulls back, takes Will’s hand, and pulls him inside the cabin and out of view from the curious campers. Once inside, he pushes back into the hug, and still doesn’t say anything.

Will, bless him, just rubs Nico’s back and lets him process.

Things are finally making sense, and it’s a relief. The guilt and worry he’d been feeling also fade, and now it’s just a sort of acceptance. It's still scary, but not as much because he's...not imagining things or just fooling himself.

It feels a little like relief and a lot like finally realizing who he is is okay.

***

Saying things weren't weird after that would be a lie, because they definitely are. Nico's no longer sure how to act, and...neither is Will. They're trapped in a dance, shifting around each other while everyone around them grows frustrated. Nico's not sure what ready feels like and Will's scared of pushing him, so they circle, circle, circle.

It's a carousel of blushes and hesitant touches, and they both know if they don't do something soon they'll be locked in a closet together. Nico makes a point to remind everyone that he's now claustrophobic, and that staves off the threats, but...he knows they'll come up with something else.

So they dance, and they spin, and they hold each other's gazes with something between exhaustion, exasperation, and want. It's Nico's fault, they're both aware, because if he just made up his mind, Will would know what to do. If Nico's not ready, they're friends, and if he is?

They're...more.

The thought makes the butterflies invite moths over for an absolute rager in Nico's stomach, and he lays on his bed and whines to the air because he doesn't trust anyone to keep from teasing him or pushing him. Will's off with the youngest campers in the strawberry fields for the day, and Nico would go help if he didn't hate the oppressive ninety-something degree (or so it feels) weather this side of the US is pleasantly roasting in.

He whines again. His birthday is in three weeks. Maybe he'll get the guts to ask for a kiss.

Probably not.

He stops whining, squinting at his ceiling as some noise filters through the glass of his window. That's weird, because he'd specifically made the glass thick and noise-blocking. He sits up, still squinting, and then gets out of bed entirely to poke his head out the door and figure out what the hell the noise is.

It's screaming, and Nico's blood chills in his veins, because it's coming from the strawberry fields.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, I'm an asshole. You guys already knew this, though, we're way far in and they're still working on holding hands.  
> Let's hope nothing bad happens, right?


	19. It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you, there's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is all I have written, I have finally caught up. I would've updated sooner, but my friend's bday was this weekend and we had five people staying over, so. unfortunately, I am low on ideas, SO FIRE PREDICTIONS AT ME.  
> title cred to Quietdrive.

He takes off at a dead sprint, barely remembering to grab his sword from by his door. Kids run past him, and he barely notices, scanning them for Will’s telltale height and bright blond hair. The kids are fine, he thinks, no one’s bleeding, but _where is Will?_

Clarisse is keeping pace with his rapid speed a few yards away, but they don’t spare each other more than a panicked glance. She’s got a battle axe in one hand and an aluminum baseball bat in the other, and Nico doesn’t even question it, just prays that whatever has caused this much panic is small enough for them to take down.

He doesn’t understand, because the camp is protected by magical barriers, so what the hell? The only thing that should be able to cross is demigods, and...didn’t they get rid of any hostilities? It doesn’t make any sense.

A piercing whistle rents through the air, cutting cleanly over all other noise, and Nico winces, stumbles, his ears ringing. He knows that whistle, though; it’s one of Will’s powers. There’s relief, because Will’s alive, but panic, because Will _never_ uses the whistle unless he’s desperate. He hates to fight, avoids battles when he can, will do long-range archery if he absolutely has to engage. He’s seen too many siblings fall, and he’s the only Apollo camper old enough to really hold Cabin Leader anymore. He’d been devastated when he had to take the title when he was too young, so he doesn’t take risks, because he doesn’t want any of his siblings to bear that. Plus, honestly?

Will isn’t the best fighter.

He’s alright, and he’s athletic, but he’s such a healer and it’s so built in to him that he can’t stand hurting things or causing pain. He’s a damn marshmallow, and Nico normally finds it really cute, but now there’s a block of ice in his chest that says Will’s hesitation is gonna get him fucking killed, and Nico can’t take that.

He pushes himself faster, cresting the hill where the fields span out, and gods, his blood runs cold.

Will is standing alone with no weapon, and he is surrounded by a ragtag group of pissed-off demigods. A few have runes on their skin and clothes, things Nico recognizes from Lou Ellen and her cabin - Hecate’s kids. Others hold weapons, some swords and some spears. All of them look furious, and Will…

Will looks righteous, standing tall and glaring down at the demigods, chin held high. He doesn’t look scared, not one bit, and he is unarmed, unprotected, and he just pissed off the entire mob of what Nico roughly estimates at fifty or so.

Nico feels like he’s running in slow motion, like he can’t get close enough fast enough, because Will’s chin is held high and his hair shines bright gold in the sunlight, and Nico’s so far.

Will shifts, glancing up at the sky and blinking before he moves, stance flowing from straight backed to something like yoga, and the sunlight on his skin begins to shine, to reflect out. The demigods nearest him curse and rage, having to block their eyes from the blinding light suddenly hitting them.

Nico’s never seen anything like it, and it’s beautiful, it’s incredible, Will is _bending_ light and Nico’s still far, Will’s at the end of the fields, he probably ran to give the kids time and whistled to stun. Nico’s so proud and all he wants to do is kiss Will after saving his ass.

This is, of course, the moment when an arrow lands in Will’s calf.

Will’s anguish rocks Nico to the core, and he stumbles again, gasping, because his cry of pain is physically causing an ache in Nico’s chest and he’s never felt empathy to that point before. He lets himself fall, though, His sword impaling the ground. He’s back up in moments, and all he does is scream.

It’s a blackout. He does not remember anything beyond that point.

***

Later, much later, when the night is dark and the battle has ceased and Nico finally wakes, he learns of what happened, and he remembers bits and pieces.

-

_When he’d screamed, the ground had split open, and frost had shot outwards, killing and freezing strawberry bushes. He’d stalked forward, yanking up his sword with only a flick of his wrist._

_The crowd of outsiders had stared, slack-jawed, before his aura hit them. Then they’d begun to scream themselves, because all they could feel was his terror, his anger, the worst of his emotions. The leftovers from Tartarus, his fury at them, his fear for Will, for camp, for himself. Every negative emotion he’d had in the past few months and then the lingering bits from before his last melodramatic anger volcano._

_To her credit, Clarisse does not stop and stare, does not even spare him much more than a judging glance to see if she can get past him without his powers touching her. She does, and launches herself into the crowd with a battle cry that is more roar than anything else. They scatter, because she is a whirlwind of axe blade and baseball bat, and Nico himself is striding forward trailing frost, death, and holding a soul-eating sword with a smile from hell on his lips._

_Skeleton warriors haul themselves from the ground, and the battle is short. Nico doesn’t kill anyone, and he doesn’t even have to touch them - they sprint away, out of his reach, out of camp._

_He doesn’t see Will._

-

Will is gone, they say. His blood was splashed on the leaves of the strawberry bushes he’d been standing amongst, and it’s more than just an arrow could draw, even if it had been torn out. Nico wasn’t able to save him.

 _Mist_ , Clarisse said. They’d used Mist, shrouding Will, keeping Clarisse from contacting any actual demigods, just mistforms.

Nico throws up when he finds out the news, body twisting over the side of his cot in the infirmary, held up by his forearms because his hands are back to smoke and nothing he is dealing with is allowing him to calm enough to bring them back. The Apollo kids that remain are pale and scared, and they offer him Ambrosia he knows won’t help and brushes away.

He stands despite their warnings, because he doesn’t have any fucking time for this smoke shit and he’d dealt with it hauling a giant goddess statue across the world so he’d deal with it now. His thigh passes through the corner of a table, and he does not stop, does not flinch, just moves forward, heading to the meeting in the Big House.

***

The stares on him would heat his cheeks if he felt anything other than a simmering white-hot rage, even still. He sits down silently, expression daring anyone to make him leave.

Clarisse is the only one unsurprised, the only one that isn’t wary of him, and she actually nods to him in something like respect. Everyone else just stares in mixtures of shock, fear, and worry. He growls, and Miranda Gardiner, head of the Demeter cabin, sends him a withering glare that doesn’t even phase him.

“Are...should you be up right now?” Percy asks awkwardly.

“Should you be talking?” Nico snaps. “Unless you’re talking about how we’re getting Will back, the answer is no, so shut up.”

“Nico--” Annabeth starts, looking like she’s about to go on some kind of well-meaning maternal rant.

“No!” Nico snaps again, more growl than anything else. He feels the shadows near him shift, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. The Stoll brothers, sat on his left, both rapidly scoot their chairs away. There’s no one on his right to move away, and he makes no effort to shift away from the table. “If I have to go _alone,_ I will, but Will is getting found. I don’t need a fucking prophecy or a Quest.”

“No one’s saying we aren’t going after him,” Clarisse says, tone calm but commanding. “Relax. We are. We have to decide how.”

Nico swallows, turning to Lou Ellen. “Those were Hecate kids, weren’t they?”

“Based on description?” She fidgets a little, flipping an index card in her fingers. “Yeah, but...I didn’t know I had any other siblings.”

“A large portion of your siblings were lost in the Second Olympian War.” Chiron says, in his wheelchair at the head of the table. “But it is possible some survived and did not want to join the camp, even with your new cabin.”

“Why?” she asked, surprised. “It’s nice here. Much nicer than fighting everyday to make it through, like you have to do outside.”

“Not everyone shares that mentality,” Percy said, tone quiet, expression closed off. “Sometimes people just...don’t agree with us or how camp is run.”

“Hence the Second Titan War!” Connor says, tone a little too cheerful if the sour look Annabeth sends him is any indication.

“Off topic,” Nico mumbles, frowning.

“Anyways, point is not everyone finds camp to be the best place for them,” Percy finishes. “So they might be kids that don’t like camp.”

“I thought we were done dealing with that,” Travis sighs.

Austin, the cabin counselor in place of Will, looks wholly uncomfortable with being there. He’s only seventeen, a year younger than WIll, but he’d been through the same two wars and seen the loss of all his siblings older than him. To possibly lose another must be hell. Nico closes his eyes and rubs his face, careful, because he doesn’t trust the solidity of his hands right now.

“Apparently, we’re not,” Clarisse says, firm. “So we need to figure out what to do about it, and fast. They could be back.”

“It can’t be too huge.” Annabeth’s tone is relieved. “There hasn’t been a prophecy.”

“Has anyone talked to Rachel, though?” Percy glances around. “She usually doesn’t bother coming to these meetings unless she has to, but...I haven’t seen her around.”

“Last I heard she was working on a mural for her school with her feet,” Travis says. “But that might be more rumor than anything else. Doesn’t she graduate this year?”

“Yeah.” Percy nods. “I’ll take Blackjack and visit her tomorrow, see if she’s getting anything from the Oracle.”

Nico stays silent, listening to the conversation flowing over his head and trying to keep calm. He interrupts when an idea hits him, though. “Mrs. O’Leary!”

“...What about her?” Percy asked him slowly.

“She can track Will!” Nico leaned forward. “I can call her, she likes me, and we can track Will!”

“Do you really think using your powers is a good idea?” Clarisse eyes him suspiciously, and he’s a little surprised. “Will’s been your wet nurse this whole time, I doubt he’d be pleased if you melted away trying to find him.”

“First of all, gross, I didn’t need that mental image.” Nico cringed. “Second, he’s not here, and he can kill me later when he is. Until then, I do what I have to. Mrs O’Leary doesn’t even take much to call.”

She shrugs. “It’s your ghostly body. I’ll go with you.”

“Um, thank you?” Nico’s surprise shows in his tone.

“Do you want to wait to see if there’s a prophecy?” Chiron asked. “I can’t keep you here without one, as Clarisse, you are a legal adult, and Nico...will just leave anyways, underprepared.”

He doesn’t even have the grace to look ashamed. “Yeah, I will. No, I don’t need a prophecy, I need to find Will. I’ll deal with whatever is in my way until I do.”

“Which is why I’m coming with you. Your skinny ass is gonna need some help, and I’ve been itching to fight something that’s gonna fight me back and mean it.” Clarisse nods decidedly.

And that’s how Nico di Angelo ends up somewhat-friends with Clarisse La Rue, and on a journey to find WIll Solace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls don't hate me for having Will disappear  
> fire ideas at me so we can bring him back  
> also Will's supercool light-bendy powers will be explained later  
> also how would you guys feel if I was working in other fandoms as well, like teen wolf and/or harry potter and/or 5SOS


	20. Just get your ass back home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited discovery of what the hell is going on, sort of. 
> 
>  
> 
> ...Okay, it's a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, guys, I suck. I'm sorry. I've had the hell of a month to start, and...yeah. Shit's hard. Spending most of my time trying to get up motivation to eat. Really, the only productive thing I've been doing is getting my redbubble up and running (same name as here, planning to eventually put some pjo/solangelo stuff up, will keep you guys posted) and apply for work, 'cause I'm tight as hell on money and will have to scrape for rent.  
> Basically, shit happens, life kinda sucks, but I won't be as alone next weekend, so I can look forward to that. Also, my laptop's keyboard is throwing a fit and being glitchy and idek, so. Gonna have to start writing more on my iPad, I guess.  
> One last thing: I changed my tumblr to distantdreamingg. There's an extra g because some girl has the original url in a blog that hasn't posted since 2011, and her ask and fanmail are off, so I have no way of getting access to it, so. Sucks. I was going for a unified brand name kinda thing, at least I got close.  
> RIGHT OKAY. TITLE CRED TO EITHER GYM CLASS HEROES AND NEON HITCH OR TO SECRETS, DEPENDING ON YOUR VERSION PREFERENCE, I'M TIED BETWEEN BOTH. I'M DONE. ENJOY.

Nico and Clarisse are joined by Lou Ellen and Cecil, both of whom laugh when they find out Nico isn’t planning to take them along.

“Will’s been my best friend since long before he was fawning over you, hon,” Lou Ellen says, tone warm despite her words. “And is he’s in trouble, I’m gonna help bail him out.”

“Will was the only person that was friendly with me in my first week at camp, and we’ve known each other since.” Cecil explains. “I’m not gonna let him get kidnapped and not go rescue his nerd self. He’ll be too busy putting bandaids on his attackers to get away on his own, and we all know it.”

Clarisse only nods. “Fair enough. Anyone else signing up, or can we pack and go?”

“We’re not taking anyone else,” Nico says firmly. “This is it. We don’t need an army.”

“Four against forty-some,” Cecil muses. “I like our odds. How many bags can I bring?”

“Depends on how much you can carry,” Nico snaps. “Pack quickly, we leave in the morning.”

“I know a spell that’ll make everyone’s bags weightless!” Lou Ellen says brightly, and she follows Cecil as the latter cheers.

***

They meet at the edge of the camp as soon as breakfast ends, and they’re the most mismatched group Nico has ever laid eyes on. Nico is dressed in all black, except for the blue hoodie Will had left in his cabin, seeing as Mrs. O’Leary would need something to scent and it made Nico feel less like crying, so. He’s got his sword on his chain belt, he’s got daggers strapped to the thighs  of the skinny jeans that have seen better days, and a beat-up backpack with a tent, a sleeping bag, ambrosia and nectar, some actual food, a wad of cash, and a few sets of extra clothes. This is a stealth mission, after all, and he’d told them as much. Get in, get WIll, get out. As minimal time as possible.

Clarisse is more weapon than woman, what with the battle axe, a sword, daggers, a shield, what looks like a mace, and what might be a grenade all strapped to her body, with the added bonus of a spear in her hand. Her backpack is beneath the shield, and it’s made of some seriously durable-looking fabric. Nico’s kinda jealous. Even her clothes - a simple set of cargo pants and boots paired with a faded Guns ‘N Roses shirt - look sturdier than anything Nico owns. His own skull-patterned shirt has also seen better days, and there’s holes in the hem.

Lou Ellen is essentially a walking Hot Topic ad from the early 2000s, if what Nico’s seen online is true. Her jeans are split, one leg black and the other white, and her muscle shirt  has the Batman logo emblazoned over her chest, combat boots finishing off her look. She’s got runes drawn over all of her exposed skin, a pack of index cards in one back pocket and a sharpie in the other, and her backpack is Harley Quinn themed. She’d tied back her long brown hair in a messy bun, and her expression is determined.

And...then there’s Cecil, who is in yellow jeans and wearing a shirt with a dinosaur on it and some terrible pun, a backpack stuffed to the seams and in an obnoxiously cute pattern. His shoes are laced up to his knees, like the chucks everyone owns but much taller. He himself is actually several inches shorter than Nico, which still takes Nico off guard.

“Do none of you know how to stay unnoticed?” Nico asks after a moment, frowning. “Honestly. You’re all beacons.”

Lou Ellen wiggles her fingers. “Mist, hon. Got it covered.” She steps closer, slipping an index card into his bag, making it weightless on his shoulder.

Nico grumbles a thanks as she did the same for Clarisse, and he led the way past the protective barrier and the giant Athena statue that no one had even bothered trying to move. The golden dragon huffs a breath of smoke towards them, and Cecil waves and pats it’s head as they passed.

Nico rolls his eyes, bringing two fingers to his mouth and leaning into a shadow, whistling. It’s soundless, as he’d simply sent the sound into the darkness.

A few moments later, Mrs. O’Leary shoots out of the shadows, flattens him to the ground, and licks his entire face, her drool dripping onto his shirt..

Nico whines. “You _know_ that doesn’t wash out! That’s gross!”

She barks, deafening them all for a moment, and Nico has to almost wrestle her off so he can sit up. “Okay, girl. I need you to help me out and find someone, okay? Smell this jacket, see if you can take us to the owner.” He slides off the hoodie and holds it out.

She buries her nose against the fabric, inhaling deeply, barking again and shifting excitedly once she got the scent.

“Awesome.” Nico stands, sliding the jacket back on. “All aboard the Hellhound Express, guys.”

Cecil looks dumbstruck, Lou Ellen looks amazed, and Clarisse climbs on without a word, expression as neutral as it had been when Nico had first walked up to her.

Once they’d all climbed on, Nico tells them to brace, and they’re launched into the shadows.

***

When they emerge, Cecil topples off and throws up.

Nico winces. “Sorry. I always forget it’s not fun for everyone else.”

“That’s _fun_ to you?” Lou Ellen croaks, sliding off Mrs. O’Leary to tend to Cecil.

Nico shrugs, following Clarisse off and absently giving Mrs. O’Leary a good petting. “It doesn’t bother me like it does you guys, if that’s what you mean. I was using it more as a figure of speech. It’s...kinda like teleporting, only darker. And lately it feels like I’m coming apart at the seems and the shadows are crawling inside of me, but that’ll probably fade.”

Clarisse rolls her eyes. “Solace is gonna kill you.”

“I know,” Nico says simply. “But he can’t do that until we find him.”

Lou Ellen helps Cecil straighten, glancing around. “Um...where are we?”

Nico follows her gaze, taking in the scenery, which looks a lot like something out of a crime TV show.

They’re in an abandoned lot, standing in a shadow cast by a dilapidated building with warehouses across from them. Trash litters the stained and cracked asphalt, and grime coats the bricks and windows of all the surrounding buildings. A broken and battered chain link fence surrounds the lot, boxing them in between the building and the warehouses, and the whole thing gives off bad vibes. Nico actually feels a little uneasy.

“A real sketchy part of Brooklyn, looks like,” Clarisse mutters. “Every city has it’s slums, guess we found some near us.”

Mrs. O’Leary curls up, starting to doze, and Nico lets his hands drop, slowly walking towards the warehouses. Before he leaves the shadows, he kneels, summoning up a single zombie, dressed in 80s rags and standing several inches taller than Nico himself, despite having terrible undead posture. Nico sends the zombie to scout, telling him to report back with whatever he finds, and the corpse wanders off toward the building first.

Nico shakes out his hands, which are smoking. He’d been smart enough to take off his skull ring and leave it behind, so there was no embarrassing _clink_ as it fell to the ground. He doesn’t need Lou Ellen and Cecil looking at him weirdly too.

***

They spend the next twenty minutes exploring, with Cecil loudly chewing gum to “keep his breath fresh for any attractive bystanders” and Nico fighting the urge to deck him and make him spit it out. He’s starting to remember why he only liked working alone. Whether people like him or not, most of them are irritating.

At another _pop_ , Nico spins. “Spit it out.”

“What?” Cecil blinks at him, chewing.

“Spit. It. Out,” Nico growls. “You’re being fucking annoying.”

Cecil’s hands slowly raise, but he keeps chewing. “There’s no trash can, I don’t wanna add to the litter.”

“Swallow it,” Nico snaps. “I don’t care. Get rid of it or stop making noise.”

Cecil frowns. “I heard if you swallow it your insides glue together.”

Lou Ellen steps between them when Nico’s hand twitches, holding a napkin in front of Cecil’s mouth. Cecil keeps frowning, but he spits it out obediently.

Nico turns back around, stalking forward. “Stay quiet or stay behind.”

***

By the time the 80s zombie return, Cecil is glowering, and Nico’s patience is nearing its limit. Once the gum was gone, Cecil had cracked his knuckles. And his jaw. And every toe. And all the other bones in his body Nico didn’t even know _could_ be purposefully cracked.

“Did you find anything?” Nico asks, exasperated. The zombie moans and groans a little, which translates roughly to there being a presence in one of the warehouses, a few kids. Nico can’t help the hopeful thrill that flutters in his chest at the news. “Are any of them blond? Wearing orange shirts?”

More groaning, and a slow, unstable shake of an undead head. Nico’s hope flickers out and dies, leaving him feeling cold. “Oh.”

Clarisse, behind him, shifts the spear, tapping the concrete frustratedly. “Let’s talk to ‘em anyways. They might’ve seen something.”

Nico nods, running  a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Might as well, yeah. Maybe they did. Worth a shot.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cecil says brightly. “Which is fitting, ‘cause you can conjure up ghosts, right?”

Nico mumbles a prayer for strength. “Cecil, stop talking.”

Lou Ellen stepped forward, waving an index card. A moment later, a mistform appears in the shape of a middle-aged soccer mom, complete with golden pony tail and visor, a bright, overly friendly smile, and a polo shirt and khaki shorts. “Okay, kids, let’s get goin’!”

Nico stares. “Why.”

“Because she’ll do whatever I say, and she’s the kind of person that stands out like a beacon, and if it’s a trap, they’ll go right for her,” Lou Ellen says simply, waving her hand. Soccer mom turns, and heads toward the warehouse, knocking on the door with the same overly bright smile.

Lou Ellen must have also been working the mist, because when the door opens a crack to reveal a suspicious set of eyes glaring out, they only focus on the mistform and not the four heavily armed teenagers and gigantic hellhound sleeping on the far side of the lot. They can’t hear anything, but the soccer mom gestures enthusiastically. Within seconds, she’s  surrounded.

Nico lets out a slow breath. The kids that flow out to circle the mistform are the same kids that had invaded camp, judging by the weaponry strapped to them. Lou Ellen breathes a curse. “Run. If there’s Hecate kids, this isn’t gonna work.”

Nico curses even more than she does, and then they’re off, sprinting towards the chain link fence in the distance. Nico knows Mrs. O’Leary can take care of herself, even sleepy, so he’s not concerned with leaving her behind. She’ll just shadow travel away from the fight. Them? Not so much. If Nico tried dragging them into the shadows, he’d pretty sure he and the darkness would actually become one.

He hears the shouts when they’re halfway across the lot, and he pushes himself to run faster. They’re heavily outnumbered, and now is not the time to fight. Even Clarisse seems to understand, as she’s keeping pace with him again.

“Remind me why we’re not turning around and razing them all?” she asks, more a growl than anything else.

“Need to know where Will is. Need to be able to break him out. Can’t really do that if we’re captured beside him, can we? Doubt they’d let us see him anyways.” Nico’s not yet panting, and he thanks his stamina.  “Want to fight, really do, not gonna risk it.”

Clarisse huffs but she stays running.

Lou Ellen actually passes them, Cecil on her heels. “So, they’re totally giving chase,” she says conversationally. “Armed chase.”

“No arrows, though!” Cecil says brightly, throwing himself at the chainlink and scrambling up.

Nico glances back, and he really hates his luck, because ten of the group had broken off to chase them, swords and spears and whatever else drawn, and expressions furious. He doesn’t really recognize any faces, which is both good and bad - he remembers the face of the boy that had been closest to Will, that had been who he’d focused his rage on, and that boy is not within the crowd.

But that means he could be who grabbed Will, and that Will is either there, protected, or that he’s not, and he’s gone. It’s horrible, being outnumbered and not knowing what to do, and he can’t summon the skeleton arms he needs because he knows he’ll pass out, he knows, and he can’t do that.

Chainlinks black his vision, and realizes, very suddenly, that he’d accidentally ran _through_ the fence. He is in worse shape than he thought. The news is not good.

Percy would have been able to take the group. He would have stood his ground with Clarisse and taken them out and rescued Will. Easily.

Nico feels cold.

Clarisse _thumps_ down next to him, and grabs his arm. “Are we running, or are we fighting? Decide now, di Angelo. I’ll stand by you either way, but you need to decide.”

Nico swallowed, and the group gains a few feet on them. “Run. I can’t fight. We need to run.”

“Then _run.”_ She jerks his arm, shoving him forward, and follows as he starts to move again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep those predictions coming, guys, I love them.  
> There's an easter egg reference in this chapter, if you get it I'll..idk, tell you a fun fact about the fic. No cheating guys!


	21. Too long 'til I drown in your hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico is still missing his Sunny D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. YOU GUYS ARE SAINTS. I LOVE ALL OF YOU.  
> So. College started, my mental health is like eighty times better because everyone is here living with me and shit, so there's that, but I've been busy with it. I should be updating a bit better now, though, because I have a three or so hour gap between my classes and I tend to write at school. I may be uploading a teen wolf fic in the nearish future, idk.  
> Shoutout to Baymax, espenjismo, and Cavan for getting the Easter egg, here's your facts;  
> 1\. This is the first fic, fan or regular, to get past the first couple chapters in the entire history of my writing. I've been writing for as long as I can remember, so that's a hell of an achievement.  
> 2\. I've reread chapters and scrolled through the wikia (even with the threat of possible FNAF 4 screamers) so that I can keep this accurate and as canon as possible, and I have loved every minute of doing it.  
> 3\. There's only one plan for this fic, one that I've had from very early on, and it involves Nico and Will's first kiss. Other than that, I have not planned anything, only made notes of possible characters to include.  
> (Also, in the last chapter, a few of you brought up Clarisse being able to touch Nico after he ran through the fence; Nico's dissolving is psychosomatic, and once he notices it, he's able to focus enough to keep himself tangible. I apparently didn't explain that too well, and for that I am sorry.)
> 
> Title belong to Troye Sivan, and I highly recommend putting WILD on repeat, 'cause I've been listening to it all day on loop and I am a d d i c t e d.

They get away, as the group apparently did not bother climbing the fence. Nico’s dizzy by the time they stop running, and he sits down hard in the alley they decide to take a break in, digging through his bag for a protein bar and blinking through the stars as his head spins. He can almost hear his own pulse as it pounds, and he knows that’s probably not good, and that Will would be all over him for it. Will isn’t here, though, and he’s got no one to force water into his hands and reprimand him for running around and using his powers. He takes a bite of the protein bar and stubbornly ignores the stinging behind his eyes.

Clarisse leans against the wall next to where he’s sitting, and she’s barely even out of breath. He wants to scream on top of cry, because none of his issues are actually even his fault, and he’d be in great shape if he hadn’t starved in a fucking vase for days. He’d be fucking dandy if he hadn’t been sucked into Tartarus and ambushed in under half an hour. He’d be fine if he still had Bianca, and had never lost her and therefore lost himself.

It’s done, though, and this is where he is, dizzy and scared and upset and lost without the only person that had started to help his world really balance out. Jason and Reyna have done as much as they could, but with Reyna in New Rome and Jason back and forth between camps on political campaigns. Hazel is head of a cohort, Frank is a Praetor with Reyna, Percy and Annabeth are in senior year, Leo has still not returned...it’s Will who has been by his side for the past months, helping him rebuild himself and his life. And he doesn’t blame the others for not being there, because...he wouldn’t have liked as much as he did had it been anyone else.

Will has a way of warming over everyone he meets, including Nico. He has a way of knowing what he’s doing that makes you trust him, has a way of getting you to do what you need to do without you hating it. It’s...amazing, Will’s amazing. Nico is crushing hard on the boy because of it. He needs him back.

And to do that, he needs more help, as gross as the thought is.

He fishes around in his bag some more, finding some spare coins and a prism. He’s not gonna be able to pull this off with just Clarisse, Lou Ellen, and Cecil. They’re great, and Clarisse is a powerhouse, but they’re facing odds they they don’t even understand yet.

“Are you finally calling in reinforcements?” Clarisse asks, smirking at him.

“Yeah, now shut up so I can make the call," he says, tired.

Instead, she crouches next to him, and he casts the rainbow onto the alley wall across from them. The first person he's asking for is Reyna, because she'll send over anyone she can spare, and that could be quite a few. It's unlikely that she or any of the Seven will be able to come themselves, but that's okay. Nico's just gonna have to ask for favors.  He knows he could call in a few with Percy if he absolutely had to, but, frankly?

He doesn't want his old crush involved in rescuing his new crush, and Percy's done enough glory-filled quests.

Reyna answers with a direct question as to why he's calling, but it's not unfriendly; she just knows he isn't the type to make casual contact, and she's fine with it. It's one of the reasons he still considers her his friend even though they don't speak often.

As soon as he explains, though, Reyna is grinning. "We're not doing much over here, and a lot of us are back in school. I can ask Hazel if she wants to come? Frank can handle the duties while I'm away."

"Really?" Nico's brows raise, as he's unable to hide his surprise. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah." Reyna spins the sword in her hand almost absently. "Should be fun. Besides, if you're calling for help, you're desperate."

Nico grinned weakly. "Yeah, maybe. Alright. If...if you can, that'd be great." He could use a dose of Reyna's strength, too. He feels like a strong breeze could dissolve him.

"Will you be getting us?" Reyna asks, and shit.

He hadn't thought about that.

Fuck.

How is he supposed to get to New Rome and get to Reyna and Hazel and whoever else and have enough strength to haul them all back to where he was now?

He's pretty sure he'd actually not make it, and he can't risk their lives with his. He has to find a way around this.

"Um...no, I can't. Not right now. I don't want to risk losing the location. I...I can try sending Mrs O'Leary to you?" He actually doesn't know how she is with directions like that, but he can try.

"Makes sense." Reyna nods. "I'll ask around. We'll be ready by dusk."

"Okay. If Mrs O'Leary arrives, she'll take you back. I'll call if the plans change."

Reyna salutes, and Nico waves a hand through the rainbow, ending the call. He's so tired, his bones ache, and he just wants to curl up and never move again.

He can't do that, though, because Will needs him. That's worth dragging himself through the day, through his life, through this situation. Will is worth more than Nico can ever give, so he'll give all he has, even if it means he dissolves away at the end.

***

He manages to call Mrs. O'Leary again, but after he sends her off he gets so lightheaded he collapses. He's alone in the alley, thankfully, as he'd sent the others to scout, and so he has a few moments to pull himself back together and down half a Powerade. He's balanced enough to stand, and even Clarisse doesn't question him as he leans against the brick wall when they return.

It's okay, he's okay. He can make it through.

(He's scared, he's so scared he feels jittery, his fingers pass through the cap of the bottle in his hand and _oh, gods, Will, I need you back_ is on loop in his head and he wants to throw up and cry and curl up in Will's arms and stay there until the world ends.)

It's a hour or two before dusk and they have time to kill so they find a Starbucks and curl in a corner booth together sipping various drinks, and if Nico's honest he's more dozing than anything else. His coffee is not authentic, it is Americanized and over-sweetened and sugared with whip cream and caramel and chocolate so as to mask the bitter taste. It's nothing like the flavor he tastes in nectar or in the cup Will had supplied that one time.

The taste makes his stomach turn, but he knows he'll need the caffeine and the sugar energy to keep himself going later, so he sucks it down and curls up and pretends it sucks less than it does. He misses Will's hand in his hair, the casual arm around his waist brushing soothing patterns onto his hip. He misses the warmth Will gives off, the sound of his voice when Nico's head rests on his shoulder, the scent of honey and citrus that Nico always associates with sunshine and Will and all things good.

Gods, he's pathetic. This crush on Will is gross, he's mush and glittery hearts and starry eyes and it's seriously not his thing in any other circumstance, but something about those damned blue eyes and blonde curls has his heart skipping beats and his cheeks flushing red and _damn,_ he's gone for this boy and he hasn't done anything about it.

When he gets Will back, he decides, that's gonna change. He's gonna let Will get closer, gonna roll with this feeling, gonna let everything finally happen.

***

The conversation flows over his head, and his eyes are closed, head tilted back against the booth, half asleep and half braced for anything to happen. It's impossible to let himself relax, so this is the best he can do.  He doesn't rest, but he isn't actively awake, either. It's a stasis, and that's okay. He's not really gonna be able to sleep until they have Will back.

Clarisse nudges him when the sun's about to set, and the pack up and leave the café, heading back towards the warehouses. Midway there, Mrs. O'Leary barks from an alley and Nico almost jumps out of his skin (probably not impossible, what with his current state). Reyna has arrived, accompanied by Hazel. Behind them, though, is someone Nico wasn't expecting.

Jason's long legs get him to Nico before anyone else, and then Nico's pulled into a warm hug that feels like safety, and everything sucks a little less when Nico's got the smell of ozone surrounding him and Jason's glasses glinting in the watercolor light of the setting sun. It's so unexpectedly nice that Nico feels himself actually tearing up, but he's gonna blame his emotional fragility and current situation for that. All the same, he hugs back, trembling with relief.

"It's okay. We'll find him," Jason assures, gently pulling back. "Everything is gonna be fine."

Nico nods, accepting a hug from Hazel that's all relief and worry and concern. Her expression is determined, and Nico already feels better with them by his side.

Reyna's hug is much the same as it was the first time she'd  pulled him in, but it's all infused with a strength that he soaks up gratefully. She gives him an extra squeeze, murmuring by his ear., "Careful, di Angelo, you're running yourself ragged."

Nico shrugs when she pulls back. "I'm okay. I'll be better when we find him."

Bless his friends, because none of them joke. They all just give him supportive nods, and then the planning begins.

***

It starts with Jason, knocking calmly on the warehouse door. This time, they are ready on both sides when the door opens.

When Jason is surrounded, he simply jumps into the air, flipping himself over their heads and flying inside, and Clarisse and Reyna rush the crowd, weapons swinging. Lou Ellen starts on the Mist, dissolving the fakes away so Reyna and Clarisse can strike only at the real enemy. It's chaos, metal clashing against metal and sparks flying in the air. It's when Clarisse yells that they realize the others aren't just using harmless Celestial bronze - no, there's steel in the mix, because red streams down Clarisse's arm, making her grip slippery and her scowl even darker.

Behind the fighting, Nico and Hazel stand, hand in hand. He's whispering all the instructions she'll need for shadow travel, and together they fall back into darkness and out onto the warehouse floor. Her landing skills suck, because Nico's cheek slams into the concrete and he tastes blood, spits out the flavor of pennies and frowns, dragging together enough strength to push himself up.

His pulse is loud in his ears, the only thing he can hear, and it's becoming clear that he's pushed too far, asked too much of his body, because he feels like he's sitting up but the room is spinning and his stomach rolls, and then he's losing everything in it off to the side. He's shaking, he thinks, maybe, and he feels so cold. He can't feel his hands at all, it's a struggle to convince himself that he's still visible, and it's only the twisting in his stomach, the pain, that grounds that thought. Nothing intangible could hurt like that.

Ruby droplets hit his thighs, dripping from his mouth, and yes, something is wrong. Very wrong, but it will wait. He needs Will, so he forces himself to focus through the haze, blinking until he's at least seventy percent sure the ceiling will stay above him when he moves.

When he finds clarity, he begins to realize something _divine_ is happening, because the doorway glows and he feels a little less like death. He can't really see anything else, the glow is so blinding, and his eyes hurt. Everything hurts. He is pain, pain and worry and fear and sadness, and he's not surprised this time. He's realizing happiness was just never in the cards, that he should have folded from the first hand, because all he does is lose round after round.

Then a hand touches his jaw, and he turns, blinking in belated surprise at a woman with short, curly black hair and a stern face. A bright red jacket draws his attention, as does the whip in her other hand, and then the faint glow clues him into the realization that whoever she is, she's a goddess.

Okay. Sure. Things aren't weird or horrible enough already, he's gonna roll with this.

"You've got no balance," she says. "Luck has never been on your side, despite the concept of it being a sham. The world needs equilibrium, though, and you're throwing it off, so today your battle is won, and you shall have a time of peace from war."

Nico swallows, stomach turning at the blood still in his mouth, and doesn't reply, doesn't know how. He doesn't need to, though, as she stands and heads toward the door, cracking her whip.

Black spots block out the edges of Nico's vision, and lights pop behind his eyes, and he sees the ground rise up to meet him before the last of his consciousness drifts away.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Easter egg is in there for you guys, and it's kind of hard. Also, would you guys be interested in seeing Will's POV?
> 
> update: literally no one saw it, so I'ma point it out while I'm going through cleaning up my notes. in the avengers, scarjo has a line with chris evans when they're battling the aliens and he goes "are you sure?" and she goes "yeah, it'll be fun!" or whatever I wrote or something super similar and isn't that obscure as fuck you're welcome


	22. Give me love like never before, because lately I've been cravin' ya more.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico has his Sun back, and can return to orbiting around it like the dorky fucking moony nerd he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Okay. This is unbeta'd, because by the time I finished it, my beta got slammed with life. College is less taking up time and more just...life is kinda kicking my ass money-wise. I haven't had ten bucks in my bank account for longer than 24 hours in like two months. It's stressful. Anyways, here's the nerds reuniting, please read the shit at the end because I talk about some important things and mention some fun stuff, so that'd be rad of you. I don't wanna ramble on up here, it's been long enough. Sorry.
> 
> [Note: I did not forget about the others, they will be mentioned next ch]
> 
> Title cred to Ed Sheeran, and nah, I'm sorry, not yet.

Warm hands cup his cheeks, and then he feels himself being lifted and drawn into someone's lap. The smell of honey mixes with the sharp scent of blood, and there's an undertone of oranges and lemons.

He knows that smell, would know it anywhere, has had his face buried against the neck of its owner way too often to mistake it. He pries his eyes open, and Will's face swims into view, blue eyes worried and hair a mess, scratches on his cheek healing over and bruises on his jaw. It doesn't really matter, though, because it's _Will_ and Nico's so relieved that he's _alive_ and _there_ that nothing, _nothing_ else matters, not even the ache that fills his every nerve ending or the feeling of drying blood on his mouth.

Will lifts him higher, and then they're hugging, and Nico's crying, but it's okay, because he can tuck his head into the crook of Will's neck and he knows that everything is going to be okay, everything will be fine now that Will is here. They're both bloody, bruised, in need of showers and bandaids but they're whole enough to hang on and that's good, that's so much better than Nico's used to.

He knows there's talking above  his head, that Will is in that conversation, but he's so tired and dizzy that he can't make sense of any of the words. He just listens to Will's voice and lets the sound fill his ears, lets Will take over his senses until it's all he knows; Will's hands on his waist, arms holding him together, the feel of Will's hair on his fingers from the hand he has draped over Will's shoulder and just behind his neck; the smell of Will from where his nose is buried against Will's shoulder and neck, the taste of sweat that gets through the blood because his mouth is right by Will's pulse and he can hear every beat in the pauses of Will's voice. His eyes are closed, and that's okay, he hasn't the strength to open them but touch, taste, smell, and hearing are all dominated by Will and four out of five ain't bad.

He's so tired, and Will's fingers brush up and down his sides in a repetitive, soothing motion. Will's chin rests over his shoulder, and kisses are pressed to his hair whenever Will stops talking for longer than a second, like Will has trouble tearing himself away. It's such a pleasing thought that Nico is warm for a moment, but exhaustion steals the heat away and it's back to a bone-deep chill, even with the heat Will radiates. He won't make it much longer, he knows, and all he can do is pray that when he wakes, Will will still be there, and Nico can hug him properly instead of just lie in his lap, limp and barely able to drag together full breaths.

The last thought that crosses his mind is that Will's hands are shaking, and that Nico can feel the tremble as they trace up and down his sides.

***

He has no idea how much time has passed when he wakes, and he's not where he was when he passed out, and he's not alone. He'd recognize the arms around him even if he lost all his senses, though, and the relief is so strong his feels dizzy again, just for a moment.

Will's chin is over his shoulder again, but this time from behind, and he feels the blaze of Will's body heat along his back, feels the way their legs are tangled and how tightly Will holds him, like Will's afraid that if it's too loose Nico will slip away, never to be seen again.

It's not unfounded, really, so Nico is not upset.

Contrarily, it's by far his favorite thing so far, this feeling of being wanted and held so close, pressed together and wondering if they push any closer, will they become one person? The idea is not a bad one, he never wants to separate from Will again.

"You're awake," Will breathes, soft, arms tightening just slightly before he shifts his hold, gathering Nico up so he's even more warmed, curled up with Will wrapped around him. It's so nice, he wants to cry.

"Yeah," he says, instead, and his voice sounds like it's being dragged over a cheese grater. He's not as surprised as he probably should be, but then again it hurts less to speak than it does to breathe, since he's realizing that the full-body ache has very much stayed with him, no longer dulled by sleep.

"Shh." Will's breath fans over his cheek, warm and scented like the same citrus and honey he smells like, and it's intimacy beyond anything Nico's ever experienced. "Don't speak. You're barely here, and you're burning up a fever like nothing else. The only thing that's keeping you from shivering is me, and we couldn't get any nectar or ambrosia in you until you woke."

Oh, okay. That makes sense. At least he's not dead, that's improvement on his interpretation of what he's feeling. Fever, though? Gross.

Will's hand spreads over his stomach, and warmth soaks from his palm into Nico's very core, and it's glorious. Will is as warm as the sun, and Nico's icy skin is finally feeling like it's starting to melt. His head pounds, but it's in time with Will's heartbeat so even that isn't bothering him. All that matters is WillWillWill and how his other  hand is around both of Nico's, and how Nico can feel every breath and every beat they share.

***

He fell back asleep, apparently, because he's stirring now and blinking his eyes open. Will's hands run over him, and a warm cloth is in one, and he realizes Will's kind of sponge bathing him.

It's way nicer than it should be, but he feels like he's being turned inside out, and so he lets himself have the satisfaction. His skin burns where Will's hands aren't, but when the cloth leaves, so does the burning. It's a slow process, but Nico is willing to wait it out, the water soothes the burning and Will's fingers are so gentle, so soft, touching him like he's made of glass.

He's not, far from it, but _gods_ it's nice to feel treasured, and dried blood feels every bit as gross as it sounds, so he's more than grateful to have it off, to get rid of the smell and the dirt. A small part of him is surprised it's taken this long,  but then he pries open his eyes a little and catches sight of his fingers, and, oh.

He can see through them.

Okay.

He's totally fine, totally not internally freaking out because he thought he'd be _fine_ once Will returned, but he's pretty sure he's even worse than he was after the war, and _that's_ a terrifying thought, what the _fuck._ His life is honestly just....not fair. He just wants to catch a break, or take one.

Then he remembers the goddess that had come to him right before he fainted for the first time, and her cryptic statement; he has no balance. She's not _wrong,_ but...he doesn't quite understand her purpose in pointing that out. He _knows_ he's made of bad luck and misfortune, Akhlys was kind enough to point that out for him, and he certainly didn't need another reminder. She'd said he had earned a time of peace, that he was shifting the balance. Does that mean he has celestial protection, at least for a bit?

That's not super exciting, because the last time a god protected him personally, he'd been taken out of the flow of time for eighty or so years. In the end, he'd almost have rather just suffered through whatever what would have happened with Bianca, and it'd be a sure fact had he not met Will. He'll take anything he can get, at this point, in terms of a promise of a calm and healthy recovery period, especially if it means he can spend it with Will.

Will's fingers touch his jaw, drawing his attention back, and he focuses on Will's calm expression as Will uses the cloth to wipe at the bruise Nico can feel on his cheek from face planting. It's soft, his touch, incredibly so, and Nico doesn't even feel any pain. It's so sweet, so intimate, and Nico's amazed. He doesn't know what his expression does, but Will's is tender, and only gets more so, even though Will himself has healing bruises and cuts.

If Nico had any doubt about Will's feelings or his own, this would have erased them. This moment is too sweet, too soft. He feels warm, and not just from the sickness; it feels like his heart fills his chest, pushing at his ribs because his body cannot contain the feelings. It's not uncomfortable, rather the feeling is incredibly reassuring, like the safest hug. It's almost as wonderful as Will himself hugging Nico, which is a feat.

Will finishes his face, kissing his forehead, and Nico drifts back to sleep.

***

He remembers waking up several more times to Will either being otherwise soothing, cuddling him, or sleeping himself, wrapped around Nico like a security blanket. It's not until sometime later that he wakes actually feeling rested, and...hungry.

It's his stomach growling that makes Will stir, and then Will sits up quickly, jostling Nico, staring down at him as if Christmas had come early. "You're here!"

Nico blinked, because, what?

"Okay, I'll get you food, hold on." Will slid down from the bed, smile huge and relieved, and the cuts and bruises on his face have healed. How long, exactly, has Nico been in stasis, then? He doesn't remember those cuts healing, but he knows they were there.

He feels like he's pulling away from mud, because his limbs are heavy and everything feels stilted, slow, but he drags himself into a sitting position and pushes his mussed hair out of his eyes. He wants to eat, and then shower, and hopefully scrape off the sludge clinging to both him (metaphorically, thank the gods) and his mind. He feels like he’s been dragged through a ringer, and his head begins to pound as soon as he’s sitting. His mood dips as a result, and he just sighs.

Thankfully, Will is back before the pounding makes him lay back down, and though Will's expression is not pleased at finding him up, all he does is sit next to Nico and wind an arm around his waist for support. Nico leans into him, head on his shoulder, focusing on even breathing and not on the pain. It's easier to do when Will's hand slips under the hem of his shirt to rub soothing circles on his hip.

"I'm having soup brought." Will says, soft, and Nico's grateful because it feels like any volume would split open his skull.

He doesn't nod or reply, really, but he pats Will's thigh and that seems to get the message across. Will keeps stroking his side, and a kiss is pressed to his temple. It's quiet, but it's still intimate, and Nico closes his eyes to savor that and to ease the aching in his head.

He doesn't bother opening his eyes even when the soup is brought, trusting Will to deal with it appropriately, which is exactly what happens. Nico's nudged after whoever leaves, and a mug of warm soup is pressed into his hands, which he sips at immediately. It's the kind of hot that makes him warm from the inside out, but not enough to burn.  It's perfect, and Nico makes an appreciative noise, settling more comfortably against Will's side to eat.

Will grins, Nico can feel it against the side of his neck, and it's such a close contact , but...Nico's actually quite used to it by now. Will's tactile, and Nico used to hate being touched, but Will's been so inviting that Nico's actually not even minding being touched by other people, too, which is weird. Nice weird, though. It's a welcome change, because instead of being horribly uncomfortable around others, Nico's now just mildly bothered. It's not perfect, no, but it's an incredible improvement and he's grateful.

He finishes the soup, handing Will the empty mug back and sitting up to stretch. "Can I shower?"

Will muffles a laugh by biting his lip. "Yeah, of course. Just make sure to move slow, in case you get dizzy, and let me know if you need any help."

Nico nodded, sliding off the bed to stand carefully, toddling towards the showers when he found himself stable enough. It had been a long week, and he just wanted to shower and recover, so that was his plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT. Bear with me, okay? Some of this is pertaining to TKAA and some of it is just me self-promoing/begging for help and the rest is just words.  
> First off, you guys are truly incredible, and I want to genuinely thank you for sticking with me and supporting me through this monster of a fic that has poured out of my hands and onto this page. I started writing this when I was at a mental high right after my birthday, and you guys really just...helped a lot when shit got hard and each little review really made me smile. It's been a rough year, I'm not gonna beat around the bush, and I've spent a lot of it realizing I'm not okay all the way, but I'm alright. I just want to say that you guys really mean a lot to me, and each one of you is a treasure. Some of you started off on the first chapter and I can't express the gratitude for holding on and holding out for this horrendously long and slowly updated trash about these two hopeless nerds.  
> I love you all. This isn't the end, this is probably far from the end, I have no end in sight because I don't actually plan (woo! hopefully I don't lose plot bits, feel free to remind and harass me about them).  
> Onto some more fic-related things, next chapter is in our darling sunshine Will's pov, and I rewrote the first start and I'm sorta liking the second one, so we'll see what happens. I'm scared, I want to do him justice, but so far you guys have been super sweet about everyone, so. There's that coming.  
> It's October, finally, and Halloween is my favorite holiday, so I'm doing a prompt thing on my [tumblr](%E2%80%9Ddistantdreamingg.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) that should be kinda fun, so hit me up there, I want to work on writing oneshots and drabbles and basically just writing more often and more than as a coping mechanism, as it normally is.  
> Additionally, there is no art for this fic, and I'd do some myself but I can't stand the way I draw characters rn, I'm p much stuck on photorealism in portraits and silhouette work, and all that can be found on my  redbubble  . I don't currently have any PJO work up, sadly, but I'd really appreciate if you guys could check it out and maybe help me boost it around. I really do need the money, and I'm gonna spam my tumblr with it soon as well.  
> I should update again this month, and I might be posting a Teen Wolf oneshot that's Halloween fun, but I make no promises because life and college and shit. Thanks again, guys.


	23. I'll be with you 'til the end's upon us, when our eyes collide, I know you well.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fINALLY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS OVER FIVE THOUSAND WORDS LONG. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, I WROTE IN IN LIKE THREE DAYS.  
> TITLE CRED TO I SEE STARS FT. CASSADEE POPE.  
> FINALLY.  
> I'm gonna need play-by-play reactions in the comments, guys.

Will remembers when he first saw Nico; pale porcelain skin, a shock of dark, messy curls. Dark eyes, a distrustful expression, and an older sister with the whole of his heart in her hand.  When Bianca passed, Nico had...muted. Less colors, paler skin, circles under his eyes. And then he'd disappeared, and Will remembers being vaguely worried, concerned about what had happened the the only Hades kid left.

He’d asked around a little, but no one had been overly concerned. There was a war, and Kronos, and disasters following in the wake of the children of the Big Three. Will has been distracted himself, losing his older siblings. It had been hell, being thrust into heading a cabin all on his own simply because everyone else was dead.

Really, that’s probably the worst thing he’s been through; he’s not cabin counselor because of experience or age, he’s just literally the only person old enough to do the job and not get ravaged by the stress. He had to take it, had to shoulder it and manage because it’s not like he was going to push it onto his younger siblings. They’d lost Lee in the Labyrinth battle, thanks to some dickhead giant with good aim, and that had been hell.

Michael had stepped up, and...gods, Will misses Michael. Four feet six inches of solid attitude and snark, Michael had been a good counselor. He’d held them all together after Lee’s death, and though he was always in some kind of fight, he was never rude to his siblings. He was protective, an older brother that all of them loved. When Percy had destroyed the bridge, it had been cheers...until they’d found out Michael had been standing on it.

He remembers being angry at Percy and Annabeth for a bit after, remembers screaming his anguish into the sky when Michael’s bow was handed to him when the battle was all over. He’d spent so long healing everyone they’d brought to him that he hadn’t had time to fight, and even then it hadn’t been enough. They’d lost too many faces, too many friends, and Will hadn’t been able to grieve. He’d had to suck it all up, shoulder the cabin, and drag them through grief to heal those that could manage to be saved.

Nico popped up here and there over the next few years, and Will's worry increased with each appearance. Nico looked thinner, more tired, and angrier each time. Finally, though, it was like something in him had broken. The fire was gone, and he just seemed _tired_ , so done with the world that he'd given up trying to fight it.

He remembers asking Lou Ellen, who had found him crying late one night after the Titan war and had basically adopted him as her child despite being both shorter and younger than him,  what she thought of Nico. She’d stared at him for a while before answering, admitting she didn’t really know anything about him. Will knew then that it was odd to want to know more, but he didn’t know _why_ it was odd.

It became his mission to find out what he could about Nico, and he enlisted Cecil, a kid from Hermes that didn’t quite fit in with his cabin but fit perfectly with Lou and Will, and the three of them had begun a long and subtle quest to discover everything about Nico di Angelo, if for nothing else than to give Will a valid reason to be mildly obsessed.

As it turns out, Nico had been badass the entire time, but nobody had thought to maybe mention him, even once, in the stories they told about the heroes.

Will’s still angry about it.

Here is Nico, hating himself and feeling all alone and unloved, like he’s some kind of horrible person for his parentage, and yet he’d done a myriad of incredible things and saved lives and...he’s amazing, okay? He really is. He made mistakes, sure, but he was a _child_. He did so much more in good, from saving Percy to saving the entire camp in the Battle of the Labyrinth.

Will knows he’s been incredible from the start, and it’s a journey of teaching and learning to show Nico and the rest of the world what he’s seen all along. He just...had to find Nico, and in all the chaos of Gaea and switched camps and _another entire fucking camp_ and things like that, it had been very, very hard. He’d not heard much, just that Nico popped up on rare occasions and disappeared again just as quickly. When the second camp was discovered, it was found out that Nico had been staying there as an ambassador, and Will hadn’t been surprised to realize Nico figured it out before everyone else.

And then, the war itself. Will had opened his mouth and blurted the first thoughts in his head, anything to get Nico's attention so he would stay, even for a minute, a moment more than he had before. He needed a home, one out of the Underworld, one with sunlight and friends and love and something to put color back in his cheeks. Will was _determined_ to be the one to help him find it, especially because it seemed like no one else would really try.

Sure, he knew Hazel and Jason attempted to get through, but they didn't succeed, whether out of going about it the wrong way or not pushing hard enough. Will wouldn't let Nico slip away, fade completely. No one deserved to feel like that, and especially not this beautiful boy with the weight of other's mistakes pulling on his shoulders.

It hadn't taken long for Will to realize that he not only wanted Nico to stay, but to stay with _him_.

The thought didn't take him by the surprise it probably should have warranted, because he realized with a simple sort of acceptance. He didn't change how he acted around Nico, because...why should he? Nico was comfortable with him, then, and only just. He didn't want to risk driving the boy away by suddenly changing things, whether by pressure on romance or restrictions on physicality. Nico needed touches, needed to feel someone's hands on him, grounding him and assuring him he was still present. Will would be horrible for ripping that away when it's the first time Nico has had it in years.

So he catalogued the information, and put it aside. It wasn’t his place to try and push Nico into a relationship, not when Nico needed friends and support more than anything else. He focused on Nico’s health, both mentally and physically, and threw himself headfirst into the care. It showed, after a while, in the color in Nico’s cheeks and the fire in his expression, the easy way he moved and the quick barbs he flung out of his mouth. Tired, malnourished Nico was quiet...but the healthier he got, the more personality began to shine. Will found himself falling harder and harder as time went on, with no safety net to catch him at the end.

Of course, just when things seemed to be working out, Nico’s luck always seems to dip. It’s a tragedy, and Will doesn’t often use words lightly; here is a boy beaten down by his experiences and all the world does is pour on more weight. Will knows, without a doubt, that Nico could rival Atlas in strength after all he’s been through. His emotional strength is stunning, and Will’s forever finding himself surprised because even after _everything_ he’s been through, Nico still smiles warm enough to melt away the polar ice caps.

Not that very many people get to witness it, which makes Will feel all the more special for it. He’s usually the one to cause the smile, too, and he can never escape the warmth in his chest whenever he manages one, or a laugh (gods, his laughs, Will’s weak and pathetic). He just...really, really likes when Nico is happy, and he’ll do anything in his power to make that Nico’s default state. If anyone deserves an easier life, it’s Nico.

The latest debacles are still hanging over them both, though, with Will healing bruises and Nico slowly solidifying again. When he’d fallen into Will in the warehouse, he’d been half-transparent, and Will remembers the fear as a physical ache and a tundra in his chest. He’d come very close to losing Nico completely, and as soon as he’d seen Nico collapsed and knocked out on the floor, bleeding, his heart had lodged in his throat. He’d been barely coherent explaining what happened to Jason and Reyna, and they’d both had to help him stand with Nico in his arms because Will hadn’t really eaten much or slept and the really sad thought about it all was that he still looked miles healthier than Nico.

It had been touch and go with Nico’s transparency, and Will had cried when they got back to camp, sat in a cot with Nico cradled close because he felt his heart breaking in his chest with Nico’s state. He’d almost cried again when Nico came to, and then it was just patiently desperate nursing him back to health. Jason and Reyna and Hazel had all had duties to get back to, as they’d basically dropped everything to help Nico the moment they figured out what state he was in, and Will had gotten threatened like eight times each to never put Nico through anything like that again.

Clarisse had actually been the one to kick them all out and send them home,  assuring Will’s doctorly skills would be enough. It was a compliment, and he’d been stunned for all of two seconds before Nico had shifted and his entire focus snapped back. He’d almost lost his voice from the chants he’d been using to get Nico back to solidity, a magical gift from his dad that he and his siblings rarely used. It had pulled Nico back just enough for Will to mix in regular medical care, and he’d made it work. Now, Nico was finally awake, and alert enough to ask for and then go take a shower.

Will had just flopped onto his back on the bed when Nico left, breathing out slowly and closing his eyes. He needed to recover from the emotional stress of the past week, and he knew Nico needed more sleep, more food, and an even greater recovery. He’d plan something, but...they’ve still got shit to do, as much as it absolutely infuriates him. They’ve got to have a meeting and discuss the random demigods that decided they needed Will to heal one of their own, a girl that had gotten stabbed by one of Gaea’s creatures and was barely hanging on. He hadn’t yet explained that, refusing to part from Nico’s side, and it had been three (four?) days, now. Apollo had not only granted him temporary control over sunlight to help defend the camp, he’d also leant Will some extra strength healing mojo to get the girl back together so the demigods wouldn’t come after him again, not when he escaped.

That had been a weird dream, talking with his father, and honestly?

Apollo had mentioned Nico, and everything else kinda fell away in Will’s head. Apollo had made a face and mumbled something about Aphrodite’s ‘damned love of the ages nonsense’ before ruffling Will’s hair and telling him to be prepared (ADHD said Scar would have been a horrible king, badass theme song aside). After that, it had been pleasant, easy dreams of normal content before he’d been jolted back awake and into a battle.

And then, aside from the demigods, there’s the issue of the actual Underworld collapsing, which, yeah. That’d suck, like, big time. He’d like to avoid that as much as possible, for various very lengthy, very obvious, and very good reasons. He knows Hades and Persephone have been working with cursed jewels and metals inspired by Hazel, and that Hephaestus had joined in for structural work. According to Hermes daily updates (delivered in the _weirdest_ ways, including but not limited to a carved stone tablet rising from the ground, twelve paper airplanes of large font Comic Sans, a carrier pigeon parade, and a game of telephone with the dryads and nymphs that was horrendously confusing for literally everyone involved), the project was going well, and it was likely that there would be no dead Titan and monster uprising war.

Likely.

He can work with likely, he can wish on every star and pray to all the deities in existence with likely on his side and they might catch a fucking break.

***

When Nico returns, Will is almost asleep, exhausted from his constant monitoring of Nico’s health. He’d only been grabbing short breaks to shower and shave himself, and then it had been right back to Nico’s side. He got some sleep, what with spending hours wrapped up with Nico, but it hadn’t been particularly restful due to the state of his mind. Now that Nico’s safe and relatively stable, he can feel the exhaustion pulling at his bones and begging for a long sleep.

Nico crawls over him, curls damp and smelling like dark chocolate, deep woods after a rain, and black coffee, a smell Nico carries with him everywhere in varying degrees of strength. Will used to hate dark chocolate and he’s really more of a tea drinker, but the mixture has quickly become his favorite scent in the whole world, simply because it’s so painfully _Nico_.  He doesn’t ponder on this for long though, because Nico’s hand cups one side of his jaw, guiding Will to face him, and Will opens his eyes.

He wants to kiss Nico really, really badly, because Nico’s eyes are soft and the color of cocoa, molten in the sunlight peeking in from the small window in the infirmary they’re still holed up in. He can see the shadows from the long lashes, the smooth, porcelain skin that still holds a faint olive tint even in his state. He knows if he lets himself look, Nico’s mouth will look as soft and as inviting as always, and so he forces himself not to. He’s not gonna do anything until he knows Nico wants it, is comfortable with it, because he’s already explained how he feels and he’s not hiding anything but he’s also not trying to remind Nico if he doesn’t want the mention.

Moments like this are hard, though, because Nico is exactly Will's type and he's very nearly completely irresistible. If this ends without them ever being more than friends, Will can at least he say he got one hell of a boost in self control, if nothing else besides the gift of Nico's company. He's managed to keep his hands completely platonic, even if he can't help where his thoughts go when Nico bites his lip and tilts his head when he's drawing, when his mouth is inches from Will's neck because Nico's curled in his lap, when Nico looks at him heated with some emotion or another. Right now, he's doing that thing where his expression is so open and so soft all Will can think about is how much he adores it.

"I'm still tired," Nico says, quiet, sounding vaguely annoyed because of it. "And you look exhausted. Can we move to my cabin? The bed's way more comfortable."

 _Of course,_ Will thinks. _Thank you, universe, this isn't hard enough, let's go cuddle alone in his bed._

"Sure." He agrees, because as much as he wants to shove Nico into the cot and kiss him senseless, he still also likes the idea of cuddling and napping together. He's always up for cuddles.

***

It takes all of two seconds after they're settled for Nico to ask about everyone else's health, and Will's actually partially surprised he lasted as long as he did. All the same, he assures Nico that everyone is fine, keeping the fact that Nico is and has been the worst off out of everyone in camp to himself. He strokes through Nico's hair, letting Nico use him as a teddy bear and pillow at the same time.

"I promise, Sunshine. Everyone is fine, okay? All we want is for you to get better too." Will says, pushing a curl behind Nico's ear and sighing."I'd be out helping them if they were injured."

It's mostly the truth. He'd likely have sent one of his siblings in his place so he could stay with Nico, but he'd be indirectly helping them, so it doesn't feel like a lie. Besides, he knows it'll make Nico feel better, so that's okay. He says what people need to hear a lot, and he’ll fix the details later. It’s all in the process of getting people better.

Nico sighs, soft, still, breath fanning out over Will’s collarbones. He holds in a shiver, swallowing, firmly thinking about the names of every drug they have in the infirmary at camp. Anything to keep himself present and not thinking about how much he wants to feel Nico’s mouth on his, on him. How he wants to see if Nico’s beautiful blush spreads past his cheeks, if he sounds as pretty moaning as he does talking.

Will is _so_ doomed. Nico dominates his every thought in some way or another, even when they’re apart. It’s always _hm, would Nico like this? This reminds me of Nico. Nico would laugh at this, I have to tell him later._ He’s such a sap, he’s not even bothering trying to hide it at this point. All he can do is keep his mouth shut and hope Nico isn’t bothered by the expression of total adoration he can feel himself wearing most of the time.

Thankfully, Nico falls asleep on his chest before Will’s thoughts make things awkward, and Will’s able to calm himself down by giving into the exhaustion and falling asleep himself.

***

Nico has to drag him out of bed the next morning, and it’s half Will being tired and half Will loving the playful, warm expression Nico has when he grabs onto Will’s wrists and drags him onto the floor, laughing. Will, of course, makes himself a dead weight before pulling Nico down on top of him and tickling. Nico’s shrieks of laughter are the best thing Will’s woken up to in a while, and he ignores Nico’s fingers pulling at his for a minute more because the giggles are truly precious.

Finally, he lets up, and Nico lays over him, almost perpendicular, still giggling as he catches his breath. Will runs his fingers over Nico’s back, soothing, watching the flush fade from Nico’s cheeks with a smile. Nico faces him after a moment, crossing his arms and pillowing his head on them.

“We’re on the floor.” Nico states, tone amused. “Is this more comfortable for you?”

Will splays his hand over Nico’s back. “In a way, yes.”

Nico’s cheeks heat, but his smile only widens shyly, so Will doesn’t regret that.

“Shut up.” He says, pushing up and sitting beside him, reaching over to fix the mess of Will’s hair. Will’s eyes flutter shut, because he loves hands in his hair and Nico’s are by far his favorite. He’d purr if he could, and he settles for a contented sigh. Nico doesn’t stop until his hair is back to normal, and Will’s almost tempted to whine when he finally pulls away.

Nico’s stomach growls, though, and they both laugh.

“Breakfast it is!” Will declares, rolling up and catching Nico’s hands to pull him up as well.

Nico heads to the mirror hanging above the dresser, quickly messing with his own hair until he deems it presentable, grabbing a hoodie from the top drawer and pulling it on before meeting Will at the door. Will takes his hand and leads him out, and he doesn’t even need to look over to know Nico’s blushing. His hand stays in Will’s, and Will has to make sure his smile isn’t too wide even though it feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. The baby steps are killing him, but at the same time he’s loving the tension and the anticipation.

They walk to the dining pavilion together, still hand-in-hand, and Will is heading off comments with the expression on his face and slight shakes of his head. Nico’s staring at the ground as he usually does when he’s thinking while he walks, and Will lets him. The campers have a running betting pool on how long Will’s self control is gonna hold out, and so they’re getting sly glances from every direction. Will’s had to threaten more than one person to make sure Nico doesn’t get wind of what’s been going on.

It’s just...easier if Nico’s not aware of how weirdly invested the Aphrodite cabin is with their relationship, and how most everyone has some degree of interest at at least a dollar in the pool. Having people bet on them is strange, and Will doesn’t particularly like it, but he knows it would send Nico far back into his shell. He’s worked for so long to help Nico feel safe, and he’s not about to let a bunch of petty teenagers with no social lives ruin that.

The line for food is short, almost empty, and if Will stomps on the foot of a bitchy Hermes kid to keep them from commenting on Nico’s hand in his, well.

Shit happens.

***

Will ends up joining Nico at the Hades table, like he’s taken to always doing, and they exchange idle talk as they eat. It feels like there’s something building between them, and Will’s pulse is a little fast because it almost feels like sexual tension but Nico’s so damn shy he can’t be certain (not that Nico’s bashfulness bothered him, it was actually incredibly endearing). The point is, he can feel _something_ , and he’s praying to everything that he’s not imagining it.

Nico’s eating slow, picking at his plate of fruit and mostly drinking coffee. Will can’t help wondering what the mixture would taste like on his lips, and he shakes his head to dislodge the thought, taking a bite of his own breakfast of waffles. He misses what Nico says next, though, due to repeating the names of medicines again, and he has to awkwardly ask for a repeat.

Nico’s head tilts slightly, Will hates that it makes him more attracted to him, and Nico says something about how distracted Will’s acting.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” He ran his hand through his hair and sat up straighter. “Just...thinking.”

“About?” Nico asked innocently, and Will has to catch himself from blurting out _you_.

Instead, he says something medical and complicated, grinning when Nico’s expression visibly glazes over.

“Sorry.” Nico says, not sounding sorry at all. “But you should...probably keep that in your head.”

He laughs, unable to help it. “Yeah, okay.”

Nico flashes him a smile, and Will feels momentarily blinded.

***

The day, as it turns out, is extremely frustrating for the most part, and then the absolute best day of Will’s life so far.

It starts with Nico stubbornly dragging Will to classes and things like that, wanting to feel normal. Will obliges, of course, but the tension is still very much there and it’s kind of killing him slowly. Every brush of Nico’s fingers against his skin short circuits his brain, and every glance has him trying to tamp down a blush.  It’s maddening, but it’s intoxicating, and Will trails Nico around like a lost puppy and can’t even bring himself to care.

He misses every target in archery, and Nico laughs at him, and Will has to pull his eyes away from Nico’s mouth before he realizes. In Ancient Greek, he doodles all over his paper and has to actively keep himself from being a twelve-year-old and writing hearts all over the page. Nico is oblivious, or...he’s pretending to be, because his foot hooks behind Will’s ankle in the first five minutes and stays there for the duration of the class, though Nico’s attention is focused on Annabeth’s teachings.

When they get geared up to spar, Will’s heart is so loud he’s expecting it to beat right up against the armor. He has the mild relief of Nico choosing not to use his soul-sucking black sword of doom, and instead grab a dull practice blade after testing the weights of about ten of them in his hands. Will’s trying really, _really_ hard not to stare, but Nico’s almost obscenely attractive when he’s spinning swords in one hand and standing light on bare feet, just in his jeans and shirt because _armor slows me down, Solace._ He doesn’t question the bare feet, because he’s discovered Nico actually doesn’t own a pair of shoes new enough to have a decent grip on the dusty arena flooring and refuses to let anyone buy him some. He likes to instead fight barefoot, which he would apparently be all the time if society didn’t demand shoes as common courtesy things, or something.

He gives up on the straps of the breastplate he’d been handed by the Ares kid watching over the weapons room, pulling it off and shrugging at Nico’s inquisitive glance. “Don’t actually kill me, I don’t have the patience for the fastenings.”

Nico shrugs and nods, grinning. “Alright. Hurry up and grab a weapon, then meet me in the middle so I can kick your ass.”

Will has absolutely zero doubt that that is _exactly_ how this is going to go down, and he can’t be more excited.

He jogs out to Nico once he’s found a sword that doesn’t hurt his wrist to hold but also doesn’t feel like a paperweight, and they square off. Nico’s smile is brilliant, open and sincere, and Will should probably be concerned that the only thing that gets Nico this loose and confident is a battle, but he’s so damned gorgeous that Will doesn’t even care.

Nico spins his sword again, and Will gets caught in staring at the hypnotic movement and feels his mouth dry a little because it’s such _skill_ and Will’s really only good enough to keep himself from dying spectacularly. Nico jabs out, and Will almost doesn’t block it in time, eyes a little wide.

Nico only laughs, though, shifting into nothing short of a dance, light on his feet and barely giving Will enough time to stay on his own as they strike and parry. It’s slightly dizzying, and entirely amazing, and Nico’s beautiful like this, in his element and on top of the world. Will wouldn’t be surprised if he defeated some enemies simply by stunning them by fighting so prettily and just knocking them out.

He doesn’t get much time to think on this, though, because Nico kicks his feet from beneath him and he lands hard on his back, the tip of Nico’s sword at his throat.

“Dead.” Nico says, grinning wide.

Will swallowed, holding up his hands in defeat and letting Nico haul him back up. “Yeah, but we already knew that.”

“I know. It’s still nice to affirm it.” Nico laughed, dropping his hand to stick his sword into the ground and raise his arms above his head in a stretch. Will worked to keep his eyes on Nico’s face and not on the curve of his body.

Around them, the other sparring partners are breaking up, cleaning up, and Will realizes they'd already gone through the whole hour.

“Lunch, then?” Will offered, shifting, focusing. He needs to pull his head from the clouds, asap.

Nico nodded, grinning at him still, grabbing both of their swords. "I'm gonna shower again, though. I'm dusty and sweaty and gross."

Will nodded a little, and realizes he could also use a shower.

A cold shower.

Like, hail. Directly on his traitorous dick.

***

It gets weird right before they both shower, because Will could almost swear he'd caught Nico staring at his mouth, and now kissing Nico is less of an intrusive thought and way more of a desperate need. There were others in the bathroom, though, so it's not like Will could just ask _hey, is this you wanting to kiss me, or are you naturally this hard on my libido?_

He ends up having to get himself off in the shower, at the very least to ease _some_ of the want that's burning into his chest. He manages to keep silent, because the bathrooms are communal and though Nico's on the other row, an entire wall separating them, it still feels like some kind of dirty act. It's probably because Will has very clearly realized his attraction to Nico is not only not going anywhere, but also getting stronger.

He can't help how Nico's hands are slightly smaller than his, how beautiful they are when he gestures when he talks, and how badly Will wants their touch on his skin. He can't help that Nico has the prettiest mouth Will has ever seen, pink and soft and so, so inviting. He can't help that Nico's body type is the exact type from Will's dreams, that Nico's actual existence is a grate on Will's self control and that the strain of keeping everything platonic is harder and harder and honestly it's that Nico is so, so beautiful, that Will is so head over heels for him that has allowed him to last this long.

He would never push past Nico's boundaries, no, nor anyone else's; that's not an issue in self control. He'd instead just have to pull away for a bit, and get his shit together. He'd really hate to do that to Nico, for various reasons, most of them not even having to do with how Will himself would deal with it (sadly, badly).

He wishes, sometimes, that he could read what Nico was thinking. He'd then _know_ if it was okay to lean in and just flat out kiss him, or if that would break them. He'd _know_ if this was mutual or just his imagination. The mystery is what makes everything so hard, so delicate.

He's left to finish his shower guiltily and frustrated, trying to let the hot water wash away the emotions.

***

Nico glances at his mouth again at lunch, but it's right after Will had laughed mid-bite and smeared sauce on his bottom lip. His attention had been drawn away by Percy stopping by to say hi, though, so Will couldn't figure out what the glance meant. Will wants to _scream_.

Should he make a move? Should he not? Is it too soon, too much, or finally? Is it the right time, or is this not the day that Will breaks and confesses? Can he last, wait longer, just to make doubly sure?

It's _maddening_.

***

By dinner, Will has reached his peak. He's gonna end up blurting it out all over again, and he can only hope that Nico doesn't freak out. Will just _cannot take_ another moment, another touch, another glance and not _know_.

He's been interrupted or blocked otherwise for the entire day, and so he pulls Nico out of the pavilion as the sun starts to set. Nico's eyes are wide and curious, and so open, and Will hopes that's some kind of sign. He really can't handle this anymore.

Finally, they're facing each other, and Will lets himself finally stare at Nico's mouth like he's been struggling to avoid _all fucking day._ Those pink lips part in surprise after a second, and Will drags his eyes back up, opening his mouth to finally, finally ask if Nico will let him _finally_ taste what those lips feel like, when--

Gods, he's _so_ pissed at whoever is laughing at them up in Olympus, because this is _bullshit_.

Like, really. This is some shit straight out of a bad romance. _Right_ when he's sucked it up, _right_ when he's about to act on all this bottled up feeling, a _fucking giant metal dragon crash lands next to them._

He's really gonna scream this time. He's gonna do it. He's so angry.

"Leo?!" Nico blurts, and the sound travels, and soon Piper and Jason are sprinting over.

"Fuck it," Will mumbled, catching Nico's jaw in one hand and pulling him so he faces Will again. After a quick check of Nico’s expression for any signs that he should stop, he leaned in and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scream at me. Do it. Then scream at me on [tumblr](http://distantdreamingg.tumblr.com/). Then send me prompts and check out the two October-themed oneshots I have posted for these two nerds.  
> Mostly scream your reactions at me, though, I've been waiting sO LONG TO WRITE THIS GOD WE FINALLY DID IT I HOPE YOU'RE ALL SCREAMING BECAUSE I AM


	24. I can't feel my face when I'm with you, but I love it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little steamy (ﾉ*ﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ☆★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy. Shit.  
> Holy shit, guys.  
> That was over twenty comments on the last chapter, are you guys real? Is this real life, or is this just fantasy? I'm blown away. Genuinely.  
> Thank you so, so much, all of you. I'm so glad you guys like this ridiculous fic, I'm so sorry I didn't update sooner, but...I GOT A JOB. FINALLY. Now a department store chain has a new seasonal employee, hell yeah. Money is money, and I'm sick of being a server, so now I'm in retail and I can keep my hair the bright neone green it's currently dyed.  
> Enjoy this, guys. Nico and Will get rid of some tension, so read in public at your discretion, depending on your reactions. If it helps, I'm not super explicit in descriptions, as I never am, so you should be relatively safe.  
> Title cred to Our Last Night, who covered a bomb song by The Weeknd and put their own bomb twist on it.  
> (you guys should love me I had to update this on a public computer my ipad was being weird but I DID IT FOR YOU)

Nico’s world both ended and began at once, warmth flooding through him and butterflies taking rapid flight from his stomach. Will’s lips are pressed against his own, and it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before because it is so, _so_ much better.

The butterflies became airplanes, the airplanes became planets, the planets became entire solar systems crashing and bursting apart in Nico's chest, and Will's touch seared heat along his jaw and over his cheek. He lost everything but the registering of Will, the way he tasted like lemonade and sweet apple pie, the way he touched like Nico was treasure, like porcelain, like something so precious and so important. Will's lips were his life raft in a sea of emotion, because he'd never felt this strongly about anyone before and the only way he knew how to convey it was to kiss back, instinctive, wanting to show just how much Will meant to him.

Nothing mattered but the way Will's arms wrapped around his waist, the way his own wound around Will's strong shoulders, the blazing warmth of being pressed so closely together. He felt himself leaning back slightly with the force if the kiss, the slightest dip, and it only made everything so much better. He was dizzy quickly, and it was over too soon, Will breaking the kiss and straightening them up so they could catch their breath.

At first, there was silence, and then a wolf whistle pierced the air and someone laughed. Nico's cheeks burst into flames, and he hid them against Will's chest, feeling the awe on his expression because he could finally be this close to Will without it feeling weird, like it wasn't enough. Even with the cheers around them, he couldn't bring himself to truly be embarrassed...just giddy. His smile hurt his cheeks.

Will kissed the top of his head, arms wrapped around him, though he felt one leave for a moment (he knew Will well enough by now to know that hand was very likely making some very rude gestures to their friends). Nico closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Will's heartbeat and Jason's shout of _Jackson, you owe me twenty bucks!_

It was a few moments before a new voice rang out, and Nico pulled away.

"So, what the hell did I miss?" Leo Valdez asked, leaning against a stunningly rebuilt Festus with a gorgeous girl at his side. "I'm gone for a few months and nobody misses me? Jeez, guys. I can feel the love."

He's tackled straight to the grass by the combined forces of Piper and Jason almost before the last word finishes leaving his mouth, and they become a ball of laughter and tears and _I missed you so **much.**_

Watching them feels like intruding, so Nico looks away, back to Will and the soft expression on his face, the way he still hasn't looked away from Nico. Nico's chest feels as though it has been stuffed with marshmallows and then warmed; a gooey, saccharine, overwhelmingly fluffy feeling coating his ribs and his heart and his lungs so that even breathing is better, sweeter than before. Will's very being must be sugared, because he's everything good Nico has ever encountered and then some, and the sweetness should make Nico's teeth hurt. It's so addicting, all he wants is more, and he holds tightly to the hem of Will's shirt to keep him close.

Will's arm weighs on him from where it rests around his waist, and it's so present, so pleasant. He feels like a craving has suddenly been fulfilled, like something he's been dreaming about was suddenly and finally gifted to him. Here he is, for the first time since he was, like, ten, completely and totally happy. It's a fantastic notion, that he can smile this wide and truly mean it. He wants to shout to the world with how happy he is, wants to paint it on every wall and every roof - _Nico di Angelo is happy._

Even if the world decided to crash and burn around them, as long as Nico could have Will, it'd be okay. He'd be okay.

***

Later, Leo is surrounded by the seven, and Nico stands on the fringes with his hand in Will's and a smile still refusing to budge from his aching cheeks. He's not used to smiling, it feels like his face is being stretched weirdly, but at the same time he can't _stop_. He doesn't know how anything could get better than this.

Leo is regaling everyone with tales of his adventures, and Piper and Jason hang on his every word. Calypso stands by his side, stunningly beautiful and holding her head high, greeting Percy with an elegant nod. Nico admires her a little, because he’s heard what Percy had done to her, what everyone had done to her but Leo. It’s strong, that she’s able to forgive him.

Leo makes wide gestures and mimes explosions with his hands aflame, and he’s got everyone’s attention, with varying degrees of awe and a few nervous expressions scattered throughout the crowd. It’s cute, the way he thrives in the attention, and Nico’s happy for him.

Plus, he’s not dead, so that’s something of the guilt lifting from Nico’s shoulders. The whole Octavian thing still occasionally made it hard to swallow, still made him feel like something sharp had stuck into his throat. He stills feels like he could have, should have done something, because he’s never gonna forget the way it feels to have a life snuff out and the buzzing in his ears hit an abrupt crescendo and drop away to deep silence.

Nico’s barely listening to Leo at this point, though he’s still watching. What Leo’s saying doesn’t really matter, not to Nico, what matters is that he’s standing there healthy and tangible and very much alive, and everything is okay. Nico can let go of the nightmare of Leo’s fireball in the sky, and of the buzz that never snuffed out and more of faded away slowly (he _understands_ , now, too, that damn _cure_ , it had felt and heard so _strange_ ).

Will’s hand separates from his to wrap an arm over his shoulders, and Will’s lips press to his cheek, and the butterflies in Nico’s stomach are having a tea party with the planets left over from their first kiss and it’s all very weird in the best possible way. Nico turns to him, gets greeted by another soft kiss and feels the pink flush that blooms over his cheeks.

“Wanna leave them be?” Will asks, soft. His blond hair is glowing golden in the firelight, the blue of his eyes warm and bright, and Nico’s very nearly struck breathless by the realization that someone this gorgeous is actually attracted to _him_ , of all people.

Still, he nods, and Will tugs him along, away from the clump of fascinated demigods. Nico guides them towards his own cabin, because Will’s is full of a dozen or so younger siblings that could return at any time and he’s not a fan of unnecessary human interaction if it’s not with friends. Or Will, who really doesn’t fit that category anymore.

“So, we should probably...talk about this.” Will says, gesturing vaguely with the hand hanging down from Nico's shoulder, the other stuffed in his pocket.

Nico grinned, unable to help it. “This, yeah. This thing. The thing that happened.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

Nico laughed, leaning into Will’s side. “I do, but it’s nice to see you actually not knowing what to say for once.”

“Oh, that happens a lot with you.” Will assured, shifting his arm a little tighter. “I’m just really good at recovery and you’re oblivious enough not to notice, like how you haven’t noticed the crush I’ve had on you for, like, what...a proper year or so now?”

Nico actually stops walking in surprise, and by the easy way Will stands beside him, Will had been expecting this. “I, what?”

Will’s grin is so bright it’s almost neon. “Surprise! Even back when you didn’t know my name.”

Nico swallowed, staring at him. _“Why?”_

“Are you kidding?” Will’s arm slides away, and they face each other, Will’s fingers touching his jaw almost reverently. “I get it, you have trouble seeing yourself objectively, detaching from what you feel. We all do. But...gods, Nico. I could go on for hours on all the things that made me want you, in both senses of the word. You’ve dominated my attention even before I asked you to stay—it’s why I asked you to stay in the first place.”

Nico’s processing is running at half speed, and he can do nothing more than gap.

“I spent _days_ wondering what it would be like to kiss you.” Will said quietly, tone awed, and his thumb brushes Nico’s bottom lip gently. “Wondering if you’d kiss me back, if you’d taste like coffee since you drink so much of it—which you do, by the way—and if you’d let me do it again or if you’d hit me. I got to know how your hands felt, and how you fit in my arms, and it’s been maddeningly difficult to keep myself from straight up begging you for more, but...I don’t want to rush you. I’m telling you so you know, but also know that even if you never want to kiss me again, we’ll be okay, and you won't have to. Okay?”

Nico’s eyes sting, and it’s embarrassing because it’s tears and no one has ever cared so genuinely and so bluntly about him and it’s...it’s overwhelming, so he does the only thing he can think of; he grabs Will’s jaw and kisses him again, letting instinct take over and pouring all of the emotions swirling around his head into it.

Will doesn’t hesitate in kissing back, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close. It’s several long, blissful minutes before they break for breath, and Nico matches the silly smile Will gives him. Will showers his face in tiny kisses until Nico’s laughing, and Will lifts him to spin them in a circle before setting him down and kissing him properly again. This time, when they pull apart, it’s so Nico can pull Will up to the door of Cabin Thirteen.

“Let me kiss you goodnight?” Will asks, squeezing his hand.

Nico pulls him inside instead, kicking the door shut and pulling him into yet another kiss, because the taste of Will’s lips on his is more than he can resist.  He doesn’t know how long they kiss this time, but it builds to Will’s hands sliding under the hem of his shirt and resting on the bare skin of his waist, sliding down to his hips a few minutes later and then someone shifts and the friction is _incredible,_ and all Nico wants is more.

He can’t believe he’s almost eighteen and he’s never tried anything like this before, and he very abruptly understands why it’s such a Big Deal to do. Will’s hands and mouth are setting off feelings he’s never experienced before, and Will figures that out really quickly because no clothes are removed but he doesn’t stop the gentle roll of his hips against Nico’s.

He asks, in breaths between kisses, if everything is okay, and Nico laughs and hooks a leg to his waist. It takes under a second for him to realize that wow, yeah, that was an amazing idea because the friction is even better this way. Will’s breath catches, and his hand slips behind Nico’s knee, holding the leg in place. It’s so intense that Nico can’t do more than let his head fall back and bite down on his lip to muffle a moan, a noise he’d never thought he’d make.

Will bites into the skin of his neck and it’s like the very stars explode, and all he can feel for a solid thirty seconds is what it’s like to be one of those stars. Finally, though, it starts to fade, and Will releases his leg. He lets it slide down and shivers, realizing Will’s still sucking on his neck, and that’s the reason for the small pulses of pleasure still thrumming through him.

When Will finally pulls back, Nico knows without a doubt that there’s a mark left behind, and he grins, giddy all over again. Will kisses him softly, cupping his cheeks, and when they part, Nico yawns.

He’s suddenly tired, after all the adventure of the day and the time spent kissing, and whatever amazing thing had just happened between them (he knows, yeah, but he’s...he’s not sure what to call it in his head, because grinding sounds too crude and yet it wasn’t sex, not yet). Will only laughs, pecking his forehead. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll meet you in the morning for breakfast.”

Nico nods, but he catches Will’s shoulder before he can leave. “What about you?”

He doesn’t have to clarify, thankfully, and Will just smiles and kisses his cheek this time. “This was for you, tonight. I can wait, I’d rather show you things slowly and learn with you what works instead of rushing into it. Is that cool?”

It’s so painfully sweet that it’s almost too much, and Nico just nods, smile wide and helpless.

When he falls asleep that night, he dreams of sunshine, apples, and the feeling of Will’s hand in his.

 ****  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~react to me~


	25. I think you and the moon and Neptune got it right, 'cause now I'm shining bright.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I'm really sorry for the wait on this, okay? It wasn't intentional, but it was battle to write this chapter because I realized this is...pretty much the ending. I know that's really abrupt, aha, I'm so sorry. It snuck up on me. I may do an epilogue in Will's POV, but idk when and try not to hold me to tightly to that. I don't want to try and drag this out and write it badly just to post, and it's been a hell of a ride. I started this in March, and here we are in December, only three months shy of a full year. This fic has been a little therapeutic in that when I had some of the hardest months, I could fall into this and write and write until it felt less sucky, and you guys have been so supportive for the whole length. Again, thank you, thank you, thank you.  
> I hope you enjoyed this journey as much as I did, I'll be replying to comments as I get them from now on.  
> Title cred to Echosmith, and dude, the entire song is the theme to this chapter. All of it. Go put it on repeat.

It’s a week out of Nico’s dreams, really. Well, someone else’s dreams, really, because Nico either has demigod dreams or hazy nonsense.

Sure, he got _so_ much shit for the bruise on his neck the next morning, but he couldn’t do more than blush and laugh, because Will’s arm was around his waist. Leo being back was like the missing piece in the group of friends Nico’s found himself in, and conversations never ran dry. Calypso was easily one of his new favorite people, too, because she spent more time ribbing Leo than anyone else, and it was sort of beautiful.

The issue with Tartarus was resolved, blessedly, and Nico did _not_ have to return to check on it any time soon, if ever. The demigods that took Will didn’t make another appearance, and Hecate left some cryptic message with her kids at camp that basically boiled down to “don’t worry guys I got this,” so that was also handled.

Nico wasn’t fading anymore, not at all, not even a little, and it was such a relief he almost wanted to cry. If he had to assign a cure, he thinks it would be Will’s smile, and the way his lips feel against Nico’s.

Because that’s definitely something they’ve been doing, minimum once a day and honestly about three times on average, and that’s only counting kisses longer than ten minutes. Between every class, it seems, Will’s pulling him behind the rock wall or behind the infirmary or into a clearing in the woods and absolutely kissing him senseless, and he’d left trailing Will back out with a dazed expression and a silly smile each time.

He knows, he _knows_ Percy and Jason have been laughing, but he’s not bitter. He’s caught both of them more than once, and during the week he’s made sure to make it as awkward as possible whenever he catches one of them and the respective girl. As it turns out, a zombie sitting beside you and groaning in lieu of small talk really kills the mood, but Piper and Annabeth both find the boys’ expressions to be hilarious, so it works. Maybe he summoned a skeleton cat to rattle its bones outside Jason’s cabin for a night after he made fifty bucks off of the pool, but there’s really no proof aside from Jason’s shaken and creeped-out expression the next morning.

He doesn’t put too much effort into it, though, because he’s much happier spending his time pinned to a wall with his legs wrapped around Will’s waist and Will’s hands in his hair, and he’s forever gonna be pissed at himself for not getting his shit together earlier and kissing Will first because they could have been doing this for ages and it’s _heavenly_.

Seriously, he actually thinks Will’s able to lift him to another plane when he gets focused and his hands and mouth are everywhere at once. It’s otherworldly, okay? He’s back to exploding galaxies, but instead of nerves, it’s stardust that fills his veins, nebulas in his heart and constellations in his lungs, and every breath between them is sacred and incredible and awesome in the ancient sense of the word.

Alternately, he is a garden, and his chest is fit to burst with flowers, and he is a painting brought to life with Will’s touch, he is a shoreline and Will is the ocean, washing over him and reshaping him to the best possible way, leaving behind pearls and shells that shine in the sunlight, making him more beautiful.

He certainly feels like he’s beautiful, now, which is dizzying in the best way. Will’s words fill his ears in soft breaths, and every beat of his heart is another reason Will says ‘I love you,’ and every breath he takes is a chance to echo it back. He could count the strawberries in the fields in the summer and not have enough to match the reasons he’s in love, he could pull the moon from the night sky and it wouldn’t feel like a grand enough expression, and if that’s not descriptive enough he really doesn’t know what is.

***

Another week passes, and Nico discovers Calypso had traveled the world with Leo before arriving at camp, which was why Leo was so late. She’d wanted a crash course on everything pop culture, something Nico heavily understood. It was hard being Captain America and having to keep a list of all the things you missed out on. Nico’s _still_ hearing references he doesn’t understand. It’s irritating.

She took Nico aside for a quick list of the most important missing things, and he helped her find out she had to read all the Harry Potter books, not just see the movies, and she was missing _The Wizard of Oz_ , which is ironic because Steve Rogers actually understood that reference. Leo had pulled her away after a few minutes, though, wanting to show her the Fireworks Beach, and Nico had let them go. He was meeting Will after his infirmary shift, anyways.  

They were already bordering on something domestic, and it was the most comfortable thing Nico’s ever experienced. They did lunch and breakfast together, spent dinner with friends and sat next to each other at the campfire, made out in Nico’s cabin and got each other off, sometimes Will spent the night when his day was particularly exhausting. The surreality of the relationship still hadn’t quite faded, and Nico half hoped it never would.

Will greeted him with a sweet kiss, today’s scrub shirt a cheery pink, and he wore it over jeans like always. Nico stopped pretending it wasn’t attractive on about Day Four, and now he just slid his hand into Will’s and smiled. They’d get a chance to kiss each other breathless when lunch was over, and Nico fully intended to take that chance. After all, what’s the fun in having a six foot something, strong, blond, blue-eyed boyfriend if you aren’t making out with him whenever you can?

None, as far as Nico is concerned. None at all, because Will’s humor is mostly puns and dorky references, so sometimes he just _asks_ to be kissed and shut up. Nico’s put himself exclusively in charge of that job, thank you, and no revisions are necessary.

***

Will kissed the tips of his fingers. “I’m glad you stopped disappearing on me.”

Nico laughed. “Me too! Trust me, it’s not fun trying to grab something and having your fingers go through it.”

Will tapped his skull ring. “And this doesn’t have to go on a chain, and I can hold your hand now and not worry.”

Nico smiled, kissing him gently. “You worried about holding my hand?”

“I didn’t want to feel you phase through me,” Will said softly. “I didn’t want you to realize if you did, I didn’t want to see that expression on your face.”

Nico sighed, closing his eyes. He felt Will lean closer, pressing their foreheads together, his thigh pressed to Nico’s from where they sit next to each other on the edge of a small cliff overlooking the fireworks beach.

“I love you,” Nico breathed, smiling into the kiss he received in reply, bringing one hand up to Will’s jaw to keep him close.

“I love you, too, more than you’ll ever be able to imagine.” Will said, tone reverent, when they finally broke for air. “And I don’t think it’ll ever stop growing.”

“Even when we get old and have to yell at the kids on our lawn?” Nico teased.

“‘Our’ lawn, Sunshine?” Will asked, smiling.

Nico blushed, but didn’t take it back. “I...don’t see us breaking up, so, yeah. Our lawn.”

“Then yes,” Will kissed his forehead. “Even when all I can do is shake my cane and we’ve got a small army of skeleton pets, I’ll still find myself loving you more and more every day.”

Nico smiled wide, and the expression no longer felt weird. It felt natural, like if he _wasn’t_ smiling, it was weird. It had been a month, now, and it was the happiest month he’s ever had. No fights, no drama, no death, no demigod prophecies of doom, doom and destruction. It was just...happiness. Will taking him on picnics and kissing him goodnight, bringing him a cappuccino in the mornings and wrapping his arm around Nico’s waist when they walked.

He knew he didn’t want this to end, and for once?

It didn’t feel like it would. It didn’t feel like balancing on the edge of a cliff, braced for the freefall letdown. It felt like he’d been given wings better than Icarus could ever make, wings that would never crumble or melt from his shoulders. It felt stable.

It felt real.

He realized he didn’t have to panic anymore, didn’t have to worry. This wasn’t going anywhere, not this time. He and Will would fight the world to keep it, and with his battle skills and Will’s healing, they were unstoppable. A force of nature, a hurricane. Thankfully, though, there was no need to fight, no need to put that destructive power to the test. Someday, he hoped, the instinct could fade to only when he needed it, but for now? He could deal with being alert and happy. The happiness blotted out the anxiety, and ADHD made it hard to totally focus on one thing at a time anyways.

In short, this was...this was what heaven was like. This what what it was like to wake up with a smile, to wake up with a purpose and to know that someone will be happy to welcome you to your day. This was what it was like to smile because you felt like it, not because you had to. This is what happiness was, what stability was, what contentment felt like.

He could live with feeling like this for the rest of his life, with having Will by his side until there was nothing left. He could definitely manage that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun facts; as I write a pairing, I won't read any fics pertaining to that pairing at all, the entire time I'm working. If I get a craving, I write. That's how I finished this. I started writing Solangelo when there was only like 500 fics on here, and let me tell you, I am pumped as FUCK to throw myself into the archive and explore all the new stuff since then.  
> This is also not the last of me. I've spent most of my recent time drawing and uploading my art on tumblr and on redbubble, and working on a personal, original fic of mine that I may or may not put up on here, depending on if you guys would be interested in that. I think I'll be breaking from this pairing for a bit, and I'm not sure where I'm going next, but by all means tell me where you'd like to see me explore. You guys are fantastic, I'd love to keep contact with at least some of you, so feel free to harass me with messages on here on on any of my other social media accounts, which are all linked up in various places here in chapter notes.


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